


Adjustments

by jaimistoryteller



Series: Watson Pack [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Scent kink, Psionics, Shifters, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, Violence, background Johnlock, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 88,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For over a year he had been aware of the second life his brother lead within the shifter community and he was banned from, now his brother was gone and he was being pulled into it, only in the shifter world not everything is as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> All of my Mystrade fans, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is primarily from Mycroft's view, though there will be lots of Greg to!
> 
> Any parts from the shows transcript have been lovingly gotten from Ariane DeVere’s live journal because she was awesome enough to make a complete set. 
> 
> Oh yeah, "speaking", -texting-, _telepathy-human form_ , _**telepathy-animal or mixed form,**_ _"commanding"_ , everything else
> 
> Disclaimer: Sherlock does not belong to me, it belongs to BBC and Doyle.
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Chapter one lines up with chapters 82 and 83 of Seeking
> 
> A [Chapter & Timeline](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2338862/chapters/15623359) guide for those who want to know where everything falls.
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)

_Mycroft’s POV  
_ His mind comes back online long before his eyes open, it takes him a few moments to identify where he is be scent and feeling, and when he does, he forces his eyes open to check because he has a very hard time believing that he is in the flat at 221B Baker Street. Yet as he glances around, he finds he is indeed in his brother’s flat, in what had been the doctors room, yet looking around it shows signs of disuse that are far older than the one-hundred six days and twenty-one hours that his brother has been dead. Closing his again he falls back under the urge to sleep that he has been trying to fight off.

The next time he awakens, it is feeling far better than he has in a long time, years even, at least physically. Mentally he feels as if he is still drowning in emotion, for all of his claims not to care, there are at least three people in this world he cares deeply for, his mother and his brothers. Well there were three people, now there is only two. The other had killed himself rather than trusting him to help.

Eyes snap open again as he fully awakens from the overly deep sleep. The first thing he spots is Doctor Watson hovering just outside of his clear line of sight until he tilts his head the slightest.

The doctor quickly greets him and suggests a shower before leaving him on his own. He also suggests that he join them when he is ready which makes him question who else is there.

After the doctor leaves he frowns at the door as he swings himself into a seated position, wondering what type of drug the shifter had used on him for him to feel the way he currently does. He has not felt this physically healthy since before he took his first job working in the field in order to build up to the position he currently held. Why was he here exactly?

The last thing he can recall completely clear was standing up at the end of a thirty-four hour stretch to leave his desk and retreat to the small bedroom attached to the back of the office, hidden from sight. Only he never made it to his hidden room, somewhere between his desk and the door he can remember the massive amounts of pain lancing through his body, the way his legs gave out, Amber’s soft cry of alarm as she appeared at his side without her phone, and the medical personal that had silently rushed into the room. After that his memory was in and out but he can clearly recall being taken to the medical facility where all agents are treated. He can even vaguely recall being treated though the last thing he remembers was the doctor swearing as his heart stopped and a set of alarms went off.

So how had he ended up here? Amber must have come here. Though why would she come here? If his, doctors could not save him he should be dead. Besides it’s not like anyone would really miss him. The family member he has the most connection with is gone, dead by his own hand.

Shaking his head, he stands and realizes that he is wearing a hospital gown and one of his house suits for days he has off is laid out on the dresser. Getting to his feet he also notices the fact his skin feels grimy, a feeling he has never appreciated, and decides to accept the doctors offer to use the shower. He is not as picky as his brother for the type of products he uses. Collecting up the clothing he silently pads out of the room and downstairs to the bathroom to shower.

Stepping into the small room, the scent of it calls forth images of his brother after one of his binges, sleeping in the tub because the smell of his conditioner was relaxing. That bathroom had been a lot like this one. Closing the door, he shakes his head, pushing the memories away. Those memories will do him no good. He is mildly shocked when he turns on the shower to warm and discovers that his brother’s products are still in the washing stall. Studying them for a moment he realizes that they have been moved several times, but they are always put back in nearly the same place.

As he climbs into the water, realization strikes with dark clarity. The reason that the doctor refused to let him take his brothers things, they were in a relationship. It was probably the reason that his brother had been brought into the pack and its protections. But his brother had been accepted into the pack soon after they had moved in together, yet his brother had not shown any signs of being in a relationship, of the changes that a relationship would cause according to his previous behavior when he tried that brief but horrible time with the Trevor boy in uni.

He still clearly recalls his brother ending that relationship when he had walked in on Trevor with another bloke, telling the outsider how the only reason he put up with Sherlock was he wanted to be the one to fuck him first. It had been crude and his brother’s reaction had been quick and violent, throwing the outsider through the window, with Trevor following close behind along with every article of his that his brother could reach. After that his brother had closed himself off the rest of the way, his already distant brother had finished becoming the Sherlock that the doctor would meet just a few years later. That was the same year he had finally stopped taking drugs regularly. He had only started using them because that’s what his partner had done, and then he got addicted. With Trevor gone and the discovery that he could get onto the crime scenes as long as he was sober and he willingly got himself cleaned up. Though there had been some very rough nights as he was doing so.

With the water streaming over him, he debates about using his brother’s products and decides in the long run not to use his products because he cannot stand the idea of having his brother’s scent right now. Today was already shaping up to be a stressful day, no reason to add to it by having a constant reminder of his loss, his mind did that enough. When he is done bathing he dresses quickly. Not surprised at the fact that his assistant had included everything he would need.

Before he leaves the bathroom there is a slight brush against his mind before he hears, _Leave the dirty items in the hamper by the door._ The voice is both familiar and not, taking him a moment to recognize it as the cobra who had visited him several times in the past to be threatening and intimidating.

Understanding the directive, he does so before heading to the living room area, not exactly sure what he is going to find there. Head up, he strides into the room, his eyes taking in the fact that it seems to be as clean as it was before his brother left, nearly all of his brother’s things are still where they had been the last time he was here except for the science equipment. The doctor is seated in his chair with a small plate of food, the cobra is seated nearly in the fireplace with a fire burning in it, and there is a plate of fresh food that appears to have been just made seated by the sofa.

There is something off but he cannot figure it out, very annoying, it does not help that he is still expecting the pain to return though it has not yet done so. “Good morning Doctor Watson,” he greets the holder of the house before turning his attention to the cobra, he can feel his eyebrows draw together as he recalls which of the titles is proper to call the cobra and tries to determine why the cobra is here, “Tech, I believe.” He eventually murmurs, recalling that Amber had said his title of Venomous was for hunting. Though she had never specified what he hunted.

The teenage looking cobra inclines his head once but shifts over so his back is against the wall next to the fireplace, absorbing the warmth into himself. A part of him wonders if the other man’s cobra form affects his human one, cobras love heat since they are technically a tropical and subtropical animal.

Motioning to the sofa, the doctor states, “Have a seat, Mycroft, the plates for you, all high in energy foods that will help with recovery,” in between bites of his breakfast.

Trying for dignity he settles onto the sofa, carefully glancing at the plate before as he considers whether he is hungry or not. He gets the impression this conversation will not continue until he eats. Besides, according to the feeling in his stomach it has been several days since he has last eaten and it is time.

There is very little chance that the doctor was going to poison him after taking the time to help with whatever the situation had been.

He is surprised that breakfast continues smoothly, just as he is when the cobra collects everyone’s dishes and heads into the kitchen to make something to drink, tea and something else according to the sounds.

Finally he decides to begin speaking, “I was in the office when I collapsed due to sharp pains in my chest, stomach, and legs. Last thing I recall is Amber, forgive me, Anthea, calling for an ambulance.” He pauses for a moment, frowning before stating, “I cannot understand why I am here rather than a hospital or having my private physician seeing to me.”

Answering his unspoken question, the doctor comments, “Anthea brought you to me, after the human medical system failed to determine why your body was shutting down.”

“Why?” he queries softly. Not understanding why his assistant would bring him here, why his doctors were unable to assist, why he was saved when he really did not wish to be.

The doctor gives a slight shrug before responding, “As you are not pack, I cannot answer,” he pauses for a moment tilting his head to the side before continuing, “What I can do is offer you a place within the pack, but you have to understand that our kind live by a rather strict set of laws regarding humans and our interactions with them.”

He controls his reaction, trying to not give away his emotions and shock. His brother was dead, why was the wolf offering him a place within the pack? It is not logical, there is nothing tying him to the pack any longer. Even when he had a reason to be accepted into the pack he had not been. Instead of asking about that, he inclines his head slightly inquiring, “Why is he hovering in the kitchen?” He had heard the taller man finish the drinks several minutes prior so he was not sure why he was waiting, besides, wasn’t the drinks going to be cold if he waited too long?

Chuckling, the wolf replies, “He’s attempting to be polite. It’s a new skill, one he prefers to ignore normally.”

From the door to the kitchen he hears, “I can be polite, it’s rare but I do know how. Unfortunately, when I decide to be polite I tend to fall back on custom and you dislike a great deal of the customs.” A moment later the taller man is placing a steaming hot chocolate in front of him.

He is startled by the fact that words were spoken aloud, and now that he has heard his vocalizations it is easy to tell that every other time that they have communicated has been with the cobra using telepathy because there is a hissing quality to his spoken word that his telepathic voice lacks. The fact that the hot chocolate is still perfectly hot is startling as well, for as long as the cobra had stood between the kitchen and the living room it should have cooled down.

A slight smile curves the doctors lips as he asks, “Oh yeah, he can speak aloud, doesn’t do it often, but he can do so. You’ve really only ever heard him mindspeak right?”

“Correct,” he replies slightly stiffly as he tries to reign in his emotions. There seems to be something affecting his emotions, they are not as controllable as normal which concerns him since he rarely loses control of his emotions. Focusing internally he gets them back under control in order to turn his attention back to the situation at hand.

He was just offered a place within the pack. Why? That is what he keeps circling back to, is the question of why. Why is he here? Why is he not dead or at the hospital? Why had the wolf who as far as he has ever noticed hates him offered him a place among his group? Why now? The second thing his mind keeps circling back to is what does the doctor get out of this? What does it affect for him to offer? He needs more data but this is one part of life that has been frustratingly difficult to get data on.

It was impossible to tell shifters from humans unless they do something obvious like the cobra with his scales. They are all rather secretive about their kind. Until the first time he had a shifter appear in his office he had not even realized his assistant was not human. Shifter matters were dealt with by Layard, and he was intentionally kept out of them, it was one of the only areas he did not have access to besides some very highly classified documents. Though after his discovery that Layard was a shifter or at least came from a shifter family he had understood why the older man was the one with access to the shifter information.

This almost feels like he should be in one of his formal suits and that he is dealing with a diplomatic situation that could have wide reaching affects, so a bit formally, as if talking to a prime minister of one of their neutral almost allies, “I would like to accept your offer, Doctor Watson, however I know all things have a price.”

For a moment the doctor stares at him before a dry chuckle escapes him as a smile tugs at the shifters lips, “It is simple enough, do not break pack law if you accept. That’s it. Of course, you do realize that within a pack the alpha has the right to complete stop any actions whether they are pack related or not.” He shrugs, “I am not telling you this because I am controlling, just that it is a part of our lives.”

 _Our laws are simple, do not involve shifters in human affairs as much as possible, do not reveal our existence to those who are unaware. In matters of law alphas, trackers, and lambda are the ones who deal with them. In our pack that would be John, myself, Nathan, Konrad-though he is in training, and Gregory._ Snorting aloud the cobra comments, “It’s a right that John forgets until there is a clear threat to the pack or the member in question is doing something very foolish.” _or someone is threatening the pack._

 _Why are you commenting like this?_ He thinks pointedly, not sure that the cobra will hear him.

The impression of a smirk reaches him along with an answer, _Because he’s the one officially speaking, I am just making sarcastic comments, that just happens to have points. He can feel me mindspeaking, and is merely ignoring it at the moment because I am not being actually rude._

He nods once, eyes narrow as he considers that.

The doctor must take his nod for something else because he remarks, “Don’t worry about national secrets, neither of us really care about human politics. Past that, I have clearance equal to yours though I next to never use it, and he has clearance above yours since it is just easier than trying to keep him from learning things.” Again the wolf shrugs, “In case you hadn’t realized after Baskerville.”

Smirking slightly because he had realized and even looked into it he replies, “I had looked into how you were able to walk onto a highly classified base and turn it on its collective ear. Those that vanished and never made it to the trial have not been seen since.”

It was one of those things that made him curious how they could have just disappeared yet it was one of those things he had figured that he would never have an answer for because it was something Layard had told him to forget.

The answer out of doctor is not one he expects, “Well you know, it’s never good to piss off a vengeance goddess and they did just that.”

Startled he comments, “Doctor Watson, I thought you above such beliefs.”

 _As a Tracker sworn to three of the Old Gods I can tell you they are quite real,_ the cobra snaps.

At the same time the wolf gives a small shake of his head commenting, “I do not know if human gods are real or not, but our seven Old Gods are very real and very active in our world,” smiling lightly he continues, “something you should be very thankful for or you would be dead.”

“Oh,” is the only thing he can think of as he tries to figure out why he should be thank for it. Finally, deciding he will get no answers without accepting, he gives a small shake of his head before stating, “I would like to accept your offer, if it remains.”

 _Unfasten or pull up your dominate arm’s sleeve, the bond is wrist to wrist, pulse to pulse._ The cobra informs him.

So he does so, watching as the doctor does the same.

“It does indeed, mind you, this is the informal pack acceptance,” the doctor remarks with a small smile as the other man notices he has already moved his sleeve.

Moving to stand before him the smaller man offers his arm, it takes him a moment to process before he accepts, pressing his wrist to the other man’s arm. Distantly he can hear the wolf state, “Welcome to the Watson pack, Mycroft,” but the majority of his brain power is focus on the feelings coursing through him.

Emotions and feelings of acceptance fill him. While a sense of belonging unlike anything he has ever felt courses through him. He can feel the link within his mind. When he focuses on it he can feel each of the people in the link, his mind accidently brushing against them, so of which he recognizes as he feels them. John’s link and Tech’s are the most familiar, however he also recognizes the feel of Gregory and his girls, and Mouse as well. It’s an amazing feeling. No wonder his brother had not wanted to share this, it was better than any drug. The overall feeling is that of warmth and home.

A part of his mind realizes when the wolf and cobra leave the room but he is too focused inwards to pay much attention to their actions past noting that they have not left the flat.

“Mycroft?” he hears the wolf query a few minutes later and he realizes that he has another hot chocolate in his hands.

“How?” he asks as he comes back to the present.

A slight smile curves the smaller mans lips as he answers simply, “Eric.” Moving to his chair he settles into it as he begins to speak, “In answer to your question of why you are here and not at any sort of formal medical facility, I am a healer as well as an alpha.” The wolf pauses to sip his tea, “actually, I am probably one of the strongest healers in this country, I once said telepathy was not my gift, I was not lying, my gift is healing, the ability to heal at a cellular level to be exact. How I heal is something very few have ever discovered and is not something any non-pack member knows. Your assistant knows I am a shifter healer, and shifter healers are stronger better than human doctors or gifted healers, so she asked a favor, one that is technically illegal but let’s over look that note.”

The wolf falls silent while he considers that. The ability to heal at a cellular level is amazing. It is something not even the world’s best doctors can do. No wonder they like to keep to themselves, that kind of power is remarkable and in the wrong hands it could be a very deadly weapon. Part of him wonders what other types of gifts their kind have. There is the invisibility he has seen, the mind control, the telepathy, and now the healing. If he had not seen those exact gifts with his own eyes he would think that someone believing in them was delusional.

He can understand why it was illegal for them to reveal their gifts to humans but it makes him curious so he asks, “Why did you do it if it is technically illegal and you have already stated your kind are very law oriented?”

Still smiling the wolf explains, “Its illegal for her, not me, she is gifted and not related to you in any way. I on the other hand am by all rights and technicalities your brother-in-law.” Pausing, the doctor shrugs once, his hair seeming to change textures before his eyes, “You once asked why I accepted Sherlock into the pack,” he holds up his left wrist showing the spiral fern on it, “because I knew even then that we could be bondmates. Wolves only ever bond once, and I bonded your brother. Even if he is no longer here, you are still his brother, and thus mine through the bond.”

He can feel his eyes widening as he recalls seeing the exact same mark on his brothers arm, “The tattoo I did not understand,” it was a bondmark? Did that mean his brother was married?

 _By our kind’s standards, yes,_ the cobra answers his unspoken question.

Now that he is linked with them, he can feel the fact that the cobra is trying to be nice, it is not his normal behavior style.

The doctor nods once, “Indeed, only it’s not a tattoo, a tattoo is done by human hands, these are created by the gods themselves. In our case, it was the Mistress of Shadow who determined we would make a good bond couple, and I accepted it. As did he or the mark never would have appeared on his wrist. When you picked on him about being a virgin he considered telling you about it to prove you wrong but decided against it. After all, it was a pack matter, and a personal matter, and you were neither pack nor close.”

Through the new link he can feel that the doctor is trying to spare his feelings, that he trying not to overload him. He had realized there were problems between him and his brother but he had not realized quite how bad they were. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. “He didn’t trust me,” he mutters, sorrow filling him over the idea that the brother he would have done anything for didn’t think that he cared enough to know it would have been something he would have encouraged.

Frowning, he only partly pays attention as the wolf continues to speak. He is trying to figure out why he is being so emotional again when emotions are not something he does very often.

 _Side effect of the den bonding, your brother was in shock for nearly two hours after his, John is trying to make sure that does not happen to you as well._ Once more the cobra answers his unspoken question.

Blinking, he answers the question that the wolf had placed before him, “It occurred while I was still doing field work, actually that was my last mission prior to getting promoted into the position my assistant now holds.” He tilts his head a bit, “That was fourteen years ago, I was twenty-two at the time.”

The doctor nods, commenting, “Well whoever else they had stabbed with that knife had the beginning stages of multiple myeloma, it spent years dormant in your system, or maybe suppressed by your system before it started to spread. Only it is an illness that is hard to detect at the best of times, and I would say that it was not the best of times for you.”

His mind whirls at that statement, calling up facts and information he knows of multiple myeloma, it is form of cancer that is dangerous because of the fact it attacks the bone marrow which helps make antibodies to fight infection. It is deadly if not caught soon enough, surely the doctor is not trying to tell him that he has been cured of cancer? “So you are saying I am dying?”

“No,” the wolf replies as shakes his head, “you were dying. It’s gone now. Like I said, I can heal on a cellular level, it’s gone.” Shrugging he continues, “I also dealt with the beginning stages of the aneurism that you were developing, ironically enough it was almost in the same spot as your mothers. Oh yes, I know you must have noticed the change in behavior. I knocked her out and healed her, only she was still functioning with it, so I didn’t say what I did, merely passed off why they fell asleep on my sofa as tired from the emotional events and fact that cobra fetched them to London which they had not been expecting.”

When the wolf is done speaking he nods, recalling the changes in his mother’s behavior that had started right after Sherlock’s memorial. It explained a lot. If she had an aneurism it explained why she had changed after the car accident shortly after Aragorn’s birth. Aragorn, does he know about the pack and shifter world? He would have to find out but how to ask without giving it away? It is something to consider later, when he is not processing with too much emotion.

Eventually the doctor suggests, “Now then, Mycroft, you might want to get a hold of your assistant because I am moderately certain that she is still concern about you and I would give her a big bonus if I was you, because walking into a shifter household to ask a favor is something gifted folks majorly hate doing.” He shrugs continuing, “Old feud problems between the two species.” Pausing, he smiles as he changes subjects, “There are twice monthly pack meeting, held on the new moon and full moon each month, the full moon meeting is always more important one. If you want, I can have Mouse find time in your mutual schedules in order to get lessons on our history, it’s not required.”

He nods, considering it and deciding to accept the assistance since they are willingly offering it. However he still plans to talk to Gregory about a lot of this, because he can read Gregory’s behavior and tells far better than he can Mouse’s. While he is considering the offer and all of the information, the wolf fetches his wallet and phone which had been carefully placed inside his brother’s desk.

A moment later the smaller man hands him his phone and he smiles gratefully before standing and heading to the landing between this floor and the above as he calls to speak with Amber. He quickly updates her on his health, including thanking her for bringing him here. He is beginning to understand the risks that she had taken in doing so. Once he has finished updating her, he has her update him on how everything is going today.

At the end of the conversation she bids him, “Please spend today relaxing, I can handle it for one day, I would not be able to handle it permanently.”

He smiles, responding, “I have been accepted into the Watson pack, it is my hope that I can get information out of them today, please bring my laptop to Doctor Watson’s flat.”

“Yes sir,” she replies and he can just about hear her smile, “I’m happy for you. Perhaps now you can pursue a more meaningful relationship with the DI.”

He just shakes his head, disconnecting the call before going back into the living room. Sitting by his spot on the divan is a new hot chocolate. Really, this visit was not going well for his diet.

As he moves to sit back down, the wolf comments, “Well, as a healer and a doctor I must suggest that you take a day in order for your body to finish adapting to being healed, otherwise you can undo some of the work I did,” pausing, he shrugs, “you’re welcome to stay here if you want, I realize it’s probably not as nice as your own place but it has its merits. Including top of the line security,” the end is said with a somewhat sarcastic smile.

Glancing around he is trying to figure out what security when he realizes they the doctor is referring to the cobra. Settling into the spot he gazes around the room with a new understanding of both his brother and the man whom his brother lived with. He is deep in thought when Amber arrives and delivers his laptop, quickly reiterating how pleased she is to see that he is feeling better and that she is happy for him belonging to the pack now before she leaves again and he returns to his spot to check his files.

There is more to learn, but first, first to catch up on work.


	2. Anger and Shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Chapter two lines up with chapter 84 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)

_Mycroft’s POV  
_ After taking most of the morning to catch up on the notes his assistant had made for him on the situations she dealt with or rescheduled, he is surprised when he realizes how calmly it had passed from morning to afternoon without any problems. Considering the doctors habit of trying to feed his brother in the past according to his grumbling he is surprised the doctor is not doing the same to him. Not that he would have noticed, he was rather zoned for a bit there.

Once his primary paperwork was all caught up he had taken to occasionally asking questions about his brother. Little things that he always wanted to know and hadn’t been allowed to because of the stressful situation between them. Little things he would have loved knowing he is finding out ever so late. Like the fact that Doctor Watson had given him a lab, a proper lab, and his brother had been filled with complete joy. His brother had enjoyed teaching the teenage members of the pack about chemistry and deduction. How his brother had thrived with praise, having had little self-esteem, having felt that no matter how hard he tried he was never good enough. That his brother loved having a family that wanted him around and treated him with pleasure and joy. The way his brother had by passed expectations, taking them and beating them, filling with pleasure every time he succeeded. He learned that Sherlock only avoided eating and sleeping because he felt it was a waste of time and slowed him down. His brother only took drugs to deal with depression and feeling like he was an outcast that was unwanted. He was surprised to discover that his brother loved hot chocolate more than tea or coffee but drunk the other two more often because it was the easiest thing to get idiots to make. Apparently his brothers favorite color combination was indigo and dark lilac. His brother loved racing through the streets of London on John’s back, though he was still having a hard time picturing that.

He also learned little bit about the pack, the fact it was actually divided into three parts, the base wolf pack, the military pack, and the Devon pack. That if there is situation the first two people to consider speaking with was the doctor and the cobra. That in matters of pack law the best person to speak to was the cobra seated against the fireplace with a laptop as he was the one who maintain the packs safety nd ensured the laws were followed, at least the important ones.

A short time before dinner time, the doctor queries, “I’ve got fish or chicken to cook, any preferences?”

It takes him a moment to realize that he is being included in the question. It is such an unusual feeling, normally Amber just sets something in front of him after he has been working for a while and whenever he eats out he has a preselected menu to stick to. He shrugs, not really caring since he likes both fish and chicken.

When the flat starts filling with the fresh scents of chicken and vegetables and fresh breads his mind turns to the fact that his brother seemed to have been adjusted to his home here. Had loved having a family so why had he killed himself? There had to have been another option besides killing himself? From what he could tell the military section of the pack had all special abilities and would have helped. So why hadn’t they helped?

The questions continue to build as he eats his dinner, mildly surprised at how good of a cook the doctor is. He wonders if it has anything to do with being a shifter or if it was talent from practice. As the cobra starts cleaning up after they finish eating, he is struck by the similarity between the cobra and his brother and his anger comes bubbling to the surface.

Repeatedly the doctor and cobra had told him that they would protect his brother yet his brother was dead. They had not protected him when he had messed up and given James Moriarty too much information. Why had they not helped him?

With his anger riding him hard he moves to stand directly in front of the doctors chair, fighting to keep his features blank as he snaps, “The both of you have told me the pack protects its own and yet my brother is dead.”

There is no reaction out of the wolf or cobra, save for the fact both of them stop what they are doing in order to watch him. He can feel the aggression from the cobra in the other room but is ignoring it. He is not the one his fury is currently focused on. Perhaps if he had been allowed to keep track of his brother this wouldn’t have happened.

His fury mounts as the two of them continue to watch him. “He died. You were there. Why didn’t you stop it?” he man demands his voice crackling with anger, “How could you let him die? I have seen that one trying to play invisible do some very impossible seeming things. So how the hell did you fail to stop him from killing himself?” he stops to take a deep, harsh breath staring hard at the wolf seated so calmly.

A part of him is horrified of his loss of control. Why was he being so emotional right now?

There is a gentleness to the wolf’s voice that bothers him more than silence or stillness. “The command voice only works if the person can hear me without aid and he was being blocked by the Dusk Daughter which prevented both Eric and I from forcing him to our will via telepathy. Believe me, we tried to stop him, however it is very hard to stop something when one of the Old Gods gets involved. Had I known before he jumped that he made a deal with the Goddess of Darkness I would tried to find some other option. In typical style for him, he acted without saying a bloody thing to me,” there is sorrow in the wolf’s voice, an impression of emotion echoing through the new link that makes him more aware of the doctors emotions that he wants to admit.

He can feel the cobra’s anger and focus on him, but he also realizes that he is holding it back. There must be a reason it’s being contained.

“Sit down Mycroft,” the wolf politely states but he is too keyed up to listen, right now all he wants to do is strike out and make him hurt as much as he is. “ _Sit down Mycroft.”_ The wolf’s voice hardens, an edge of power forcing him to obey.

He is horrified about that, completely surprised that he actually did as said. This must be the command voice, another thing that could cause problems between humans and shifters if there are a lot of shifters who hold that type of power.

Before he has a chance to say anything, the wolf states, “Consider the following one of those secrets you are not allowed to say to anyone since at this exact moment the only people who know it are myself, Eric, Daria, Nathan, and Jacob. Which of that list three of us have clearance. The other two just know how to keep their mouths shut.”

The wolf stops speaking, watching him with expectant eyes and he realizes that he is waiting for him to acknowledge his words before continuing. Tightly, he nods once, not saying anything because he wants to know what it is that the wolf is going to tell him. He has a feeling he knows what the wolf is leading up to but it is impossible.

As soon as he nods the wolf starts speaking again, “Well technically its six of us who knows. Only number six is currently traveling with him. Sherlock’s not dead.”

He reacts without thinking, losing all control because it is unbelievable, “I saw his body! I am the one who drew the blood from him damn you! I know it was my brother.”

It is not the doctor who answers but the cobra, “Actually you drew the blood of a doppelganger,” a moment later the wolf sets a drink before him before continuing to speak, “A goddess created doppelganger, but still a doppelganger. Designed to look, taste, and smell like the real thing. How very fortunate for you, unlike John here who actually had to deal with the real one when he was literally bleeding out. One must allow that the Old Ones can be very good at what they do.” He can hear the tightly controlled anger in the cobra’s voice with the hissing of his words.

Silence reigns for a time, it feels as if the negative emotions are being drained from him. Its another thing that he is going to have to ask about.

Finally he demands softly, afraid to believe the impossible though they have shown time and time again that the impossible was very possible, “Are you certain?”

The wolf nods once, simply stating, “Yes.”

Shocked, he is happy that the doctor had already forced him to sit because otherwise he is certain that his recently healed legs would not hold him. That he would have collapsed onto the sofa in shock because he never thought it was possible. The anger drains out of him at the idea that he might have a second chance with his brother. Maybe just maybe there was hope. Today definitely been a insightful day.

His mind has just turned to wondering if he can find him when the cobra states, “Do not try to find him with a CCTV, cameras, or the satellites, it won’t work, I made sure of that when I sent Spathi with him.” he pauses to shrug, “I could trace his armband if I had to, or even use telepathy to track down Spathi. However as a Tracker I understand the importance of not interfering when dealing with a Trackers mission.”

Understanding that the cobra is very serious and right now willing to go with what he is being told if only for a hope that his brother lived, he nods once in understanding.

The three of them fall silent. He falls deep into his thought for a while before returning to checking on the updates from his assistant. She has rescheduled all of his appointments from today and tomorrow into the next two weeks. According to the message he has gotten, he is to take tomorrow to adjust to his new circumstances and she will not tolerate any arguing, the work will still be there on Friday. It was better he just deals with this now so that when he attends the pack meeting he would not be overloaded. Apparently his assistant had worked with him too long and understood how his mind worked. Well she was the one person he trusted with life or death information, so it was not too shocking.

Several hours pass as he works on his laptop, only part of his attention focused on the information it contains as his mind processes everything he has learned today. It has been a very enlightening day. The two things he keeps circling back to are he was accepted into the pack without any sort of coercion on his part and that his brother lives. Those two things have nearly sent him into overload, which is rather funny when one considers the fact that many would consider the ability to control through spoken word and how the doctor had healed him should probably fall on the unusual side as well but he is coming to expect unusual shows of strength. The discovery that the brother he thought was asexual was apparently in a serious and nearly married relationship wasn’t even as shocking because he had long suspected there had just been no evidence of it.

Just after midnight, he stands and stretches, glancing around as he states, “I should be getting home to sleep.”

Shrugging, the doctor remarks, “That’s up to you. There is still the room upstairs if you want to sleep in it.”

He considers the offer for a moment, before remarking, “You sleep in my brother’s room.”

A predatory smile curves the doctors lips as he states clearly, “I sleep in our shared bedroom. That is correct.” Narrowing his eyes he continues, “It’s the same room I shared with him for over a year.”

Now that he knows about his brother living he states the obvious to make sure that it is the same reasoning as what the doctor had thought, “That’s why you would not let me take any of his things. You knew he was alive and that he would eventually be returning.” Pausing he thinks about it for a moment before asking, “How much longer do you expect me to rest?”

The wolf smirks at him commenting, “I’ve actually been shocked at the fact you have done so for as long as you have without demanding to be allowed back to work past the computer.”

“Anthea insisted that I do as told in this instance,” he responds.

“Intelligent Jade daughter,” he hears muttered from the fireplace area.

“Tomorrow morning, no earlier than seven am, you may go back to running the human world.” the doctor responds eventually after looking thoughtful. “However you are to eat one solid meal per day, your body requires a bit more fruits and vegetables than you have been providing it. If you are going to be unable to get solid meals, speak with Daria about getting some of the to-go bars that she makes, or at least the recipe for them so you can have your own people make them if you prefer.”

He considers it for a moment, before shutting down his laptop and nodding, “Alright, Doctor Watson.”

“John, if you would, I really am not formal, formals that one over there,” the wolf replies as he waves a hand in the general direction of the tallest one in the room.

Nodding once more, he turns heading towards the stairs and going up to smaller bedroom. On his way up he calls Amber updating her as to what was going on. She takes the information and adjusts the planning accordingly, but insists that he takes Thursday off and not return until Friday still. While he is considering arguing with her, he decides not to. It’s a Thursday perhaps he can convince Greg to have dinner at his flat so he can speak to him in private about the pack that he has now found himself a part of.


	3. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Chapter three is in time between chapters 84 and 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)

_Mycroft’s POV_  
The following morning his assistant delivers a suit for home, though it is one of his bad day loose suits and not quite form fitting. She waits below in the car while he showers and continues to wait as he eats breakfast with the doctor and cobra since the doctor gives him a rather insistent glare. As he is getting ready to leave, the cobra steps out of the flat for a few minutes before returning as silent as a ghost.

Since he is surprised by the doctor’s change in temperament towards him, he gives the doctor a curious look, he cocks an eyebrow questioningly.

Shrugging slightly the wolf smirks as he answers the unspoken question, “You’re pack now. I do not instinctively wish to send you to your knees in submission so I believe we will get along better.” The wolf's smirk changes into a smile as he bids him, "Have a nice day Mycroft."

Bidding good day to both the wolf and the cobra, he nods and leaves the flat, climbing into the back of the car beside his assistant and quickly closing the door.

"Hello sir, I trust you are feeling better," his assistant remarks, her dark eyes leaving her phone to look at him seriously as she studies him.

Nodding once he responds, "I understand that you risked breaking your own laws to help me," his voice is soft, emotions controlled once more, yet another thing to speak with Gregory about.

A light flush colors her mocha colored skin as she inclines her head slightly.

"Thank you," he tells her sincerely.

She nods, "Well sir, here is the notes and schedule for the next few days. I explained that you had an emergency situation to take care of."

"Alright," he replies as he flips through the papers, his eyes skimming the notes with ease and pulling all of the important information out during the ride from his brother’s flat to his. “Do you know if the Detective Inspector is working today and what the phase of the moon is?”

A few quick clicks later and she is answering, “He is, right now he is on a double homicide involving two teenager who were brutally beaten and killed three days apart. There are no witnesses and the evidence is nearly non-existent according to the files they have started. He is concerned that this is going to become a serial killer.” She tilts her head to the side for a moment before answering his second question, “New moon, is there some importance to that?”

For a few moments he thinks about it frowning, perhaps he should offer to assist Gregory? Perhaps he could take a glance at the crime scene pictures and give a brief summary of information. Not the way that his brother used to, but perhaps he could glance through them, and email the DI helpful hints. At the same time, he is leery of doing so because there seems to be something building between them and he is not certain if that would be over stepping his bounds or not. Giving an internal shake of his head, he turns his thoughts to the other matter at hand. Having a preset date for pack meetings was something that he found important. It was a part of the world he was trying to work his way into though he is not sure that it is going to actually work.

“There are pack meetings on the new moon and full moon,” he answers before frowning, “I am not sure what all is appropriate to inform you of.”

“As a gifted, I am moderately certain that a great deal of the pack information is to be kept private, however those who still celebrate the old ways track the lunar calendar as well, families gather to relay information during the full moon and celebrate being alive and together during the new moon.” She remarks softly, “You now belong to a pack according to those marks on your neck. If you wish I will mark the lunar calendar for you so you may attempt to follow tradition.”

He nods once, asking, “Perhaps we can discuss what details you can share at a later date?”

“Of course,” she smiles at him, setting the phone aside, “You will probably gain a protector from the pack. Wolves are some of the most protective of the shifter species.”

He frowns, consider the fact that only the three have clearance, he did not want a national security situation because of his ‘protector’. It was something he would have to speak with Doctor Watson about it.

The car comes to a stop, his assistant remarks, “What happen to your brother is very unusual, suicide rarely occurs in a pack or any of the types of clans. Empath’s and mindhealers often catch the problem before it gets to that point and helps them. I almost envy the shifters, in a healthy clan, they are far better run than a human family or gifted clan. They take care of each other and encourage them.” She pauses, tilting her head as she looks at him, “Please don’t worry, I am certain that it will all work out. You will find yourself having a better support system than you have ever had. Loyal too. Get some rest today, I am sure tomorrow will be busy,” she tells him, making a shooing motion at the door.

The hint of a smile lights his features as he nods once and slips out of the vehicle. He is not worried about someone being in his flat, his team would have already cleared it before he arrived for safety reasons. As he heads in his mind continues to whirl. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, far more than he is used to between being accepted into the pack, learning his brother is alive, nearly dying, his assistant’s remarks, work, the detective inspector, now understanding what happened with his mother a few short months before, and the emotional upheavals he kept feeling this morning. He might be a genius, but even he had a limit with how much he could deal with in a short period of time.

Once in his flat, he glances around for a bit, feeling out of place as he takes in the fact that this place is not a home, just somewhere to sleep. There are no personal touches.

He closes his eyes for a moment and realizes that he is still tired despite how much sleeping he has done in the last two days. Perhaps just a brief nap.

So he heads to his room, not bothering to undress, just take off his coat, suit jacket, and shoes before he falls into bed. The next time he wakes up, three hours have passed but he feels far better.

Grabbing his phone, he calls the detective inspector.

“Lestrade,” the DI answers his phone.

“Good morning Gregory, I was wondering if you would like to have lunch at my flat at one?” he inquires politely, “If you wish to bring the case files, I will take a look at them for you and see if there is any assistance I may offer.”

“One? At your flat?” the older man repeats back at him, confirming the time.

“Yes, Detective Inspector,” he replies and waits for his response.

It takes a few moments, and he can hear the crime scene team as they are working the area, apparently it took two days to find this one, which meant that they were on day three, and if the pattern continued there would be another attack, “Yeah, I can do that, see you at one.”

He is about to reply when he hears Donovan call out, “Lestrade you might want to come see this!” with something a kin to worry in her tone.

“Gotta go, see you at one,” the detective inspector quickly states before hanging up.

With a glance at the clock, he confirms that he has just over two and half hours before the older man would be here. It is a Thursday so his cook is off for the day. That is alright, he can cook as long as there is food. After changing into one of his house suits that’s not all wrinkled from him sleeping in it, he pads silently to the kitchen to see what there is in the fridge. When there does not appear to be anything of value in the fridge he quickly texts his assistant with a list of groceries that he needs. Less than half hour later they are delivered by his regular driver Timothy.

After going through them, he smiles when he finds that not only what he ordered but also a collection of different fruit and vegetable bars with a note.

-Sir,  
Your Alpha and Healer has directed that I ensure you eat at least one of these a day to maintain your health, here are some of them for your flat. The rest will be in the office.  
Amber-

Shaking his head, he sets the fruit and vegetable bars aside, recalling that Doctor Watson said he would be speaking with his assistant about his eating patterns but not sure when he. Wait, not the doctor, the cobra, when he stepped out while he was finishing his breakfast. Of course.

Setting them aside he gets to cooking, making a slightly bigger than average lunch, but according to the report that showed up on his laptop while he was waiting for his groceries Gregory has not actually eaten since the previous afternoon so he would probably appreciate it. The next little bit is spent in silence as he gets the food done and sets the table. He has just finished making fresh coffee when he hears the knock at the door.

Smiling slightly, he pads over and opens the door, letting the older man in.

“Good afternoon, Gregory, please come in. Lunch has just been placed on the table,” he greets the older man, accepting the file as he steps in the flat.

Opening it up and glancing at it as he glides over to the table, he has a pretty good idea of what is happening based on just the few pictures he has already seen. Once he is done eating he will finish checking it and tell the detective inspector what he has found.

“Thanks for inviting me Mycroft,” the older man states as the two of them settle into their sets, after taking a sip of his coffee he continues, “You’re a godsend some days.”

He merely smiles in response, setting the file down to be finished shortly.

“So I noticed a set of swirling blue-silver marks on your neck, welcome to the pack mate.” The detective inspector states with a big smile before he starts eating, in between bites he asks, “How’d that come about?”

After reviewing the last few days carefully he responds, “I was injured when I was still a field agent some years back, the injury had unforeseen complications, when the doctors at the hospital were unable to assist Amber went to Doctor Watson to enlist his assistance. He agreed and if I wished to know why or how, he said I had to belong to the pack, which he then invited me to join.” He explains softly, still a bit overwhelmed.

“Well it’s great,” the silver-haired man exclaims, “Now you can ask me anything you want about the pack and I can answer without having to worry about our privacy laws.”

He smiles at how excited the older man is. “I would appreciate a lesson in pack hierarchy, is it like a traditional wolf pack?” he inquires drawing on his middle school science lessons.

“Somewhat, our pack is a bit different then most because there are more than just one species. John’s the alpha, at the head of the pack, his betas or second in command are his sister Harry who deals mostly with the original Watson pack wolves, and Jacob who deals with the military pack, Baskerville, and the Devon pack wolves, plus is the one who relays any directives that are needed to the rest of the pack, sometimes through Harry. Not all the wolves like answering to a falcon.” He pauses to take a long drink of his coffee before frowning into the mug, “Is there more in the kitchen?”

“Of course, I will get it if you would like,” he answers, considering those details and curious who this Jacob is since it has been Eric he has seen assisting the wolf the most.

“Nah, I got it,” the older man responds as he gets up and pours himself another, as he comes back to the table he returns to explaining, “The gammas are Sandra Watson and Briar, they are some of the oldest wolves in the pack and advice the alpha. The Watson pack actually has a nu in the form of Eric.” He frowns for a moment before remarking, “Actually I am not sure what all Eric does past being a nu, I know he is the head of intelligence and that he is the head of the protection, but as a Tracker he is also a member of the lambda like myself. You’ll probably get along great with Eric and his son Aidan, both are genius like you and…” his voice trails off, his eyes closing for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

He nods once, understanding exactly what he was about to say, “It is alright, I had a discussion with Doctor Watson about my brother last night after he accepted me into the pack.” He does not know why the detective inspector was not told his brother is still a live, however he is determined that there must be some sort of reason and will maintain his silence about it. Particularly if it is in order to keep his brother safe.

“I bet that was a bit tense,” the older-man remarks.

“Eric is not the second?” he queries.

Shaking his head, his guest replies, “No, he’s a cobra, nearly everyone who is not a pup or part of the military pack is terrified of him, to be honest, he scares me too. He’s the shadow second, the one that everyone except John answers too, out of fear and John does not maintain his pack in fear, if Eric is the one giving orders it because something is going very wrong.”

“Hmmm,” he remarks, considering that fact. Now that he was done eating, he turns his attention to the file. The next few minutes he checks the file and scans everything before he closes it and offers it back to the detective inspector. “You are looking for a white man of thirty-five to forty years of age, with a daughter that is the approximate same age as the victims, he is attacking men who try to pick her up after work, beating them because he has uncontrollable rage. If you check the strip club four blocks away from your second victim you will find the daughter and father. She is unaware of her father’s actions.” He then rattles off the rest of the information which the detective inspector quickly writes down in his note pad before checking his watch.

“I hate to eat and run, but I got to get back, thank you greatly! This will be very useful information. Hopefully we can get it closed up by morning.” The detective inspector tells him tiredly.

He inclines his head bidding the older man, “Have a good afternoon Gregory.”

“You too, get some rest, the first forty-eight hours after joining a pack is very tiring because your body is adapting to the new energy source in it.” The older man tells him as he walks over to the door, “Have a good day Mycroft.”

Nodding once, he sets to cleaning up the dishes, placing them in the kitchen and putting the leftovers, not that there is much in the fridge, he may eat them for dinner if he is hungry then.

Once he is done with that he heads into the second bedroom that he has converted into an office, and gets on his computer. While he knows that he should not try to find his brother, it is a compulsion he just cannot fight, and he wants to get just one look at him to know he is really alright.

Two hours later he hears his front door bang open, and the impression of anger floods the flat.

 _What the hell do you think you’re doing?_ A very pissed off cobra demands as he is bodily lifted off his chair. When he actually looks at the cobra, he is surprised to see that while he looks mostly human, he is also more snake like with a large cobra’s hood fanned out.

“Tech, drop the human, I’m not Spathi but I can break a hold too,” a second male voice states.

“Come on scaly, drop the human, you’re normally better mannered than this,” a third voice remarks.

 _Be happy John has forbidden me from wiping your mind of anything to do with your brother,_ the furious cobra hisses in his mind as he drops him. _Do it again and you will regret it._

“Tech,” the second growls again.

“Mycroft, these are your guards from the den that one is Trace, the other is Damian, I’ve bound them to silence under blood oath for anything not den related that they hear since I determined that you would be nervous about it.” the cobra hisses aloud, waving a hand at first one than the other, “They are part of the sub-den from the military. One of them will always be nearby.”

Without another word the cobra turns on his heel and leaves, the two other shifters sighing and sharing a look.

“He’s very protective of our Doc, I’ve only seen him fan like that when something threatens the Doc.” The one identified as Trace states.

“As I am the more diplomatic brother I will be primary,” Damian tells him, “However I will only be visible when needed. The rest of the time, it is unlike you will be aware of me. There is a strong chance that Tech will assign Chiclet as your night watcher so that we can switch between the two of us without wearing out. I would not be surprised if he also assigned Rogue as your traveling guard once he is done training him.”

Blinking, he inquires, “Why?”

“You’re the only one in the pack that is in a dangerous position besides Doc,” Trace answers him, smiling lightly he states, “Beside’s Doc wouldn’t be able to take any more loss of family right now, just because the two of you are not close does not make it less so. You’ve already had an occasional watcher when our worlds crossed.”

Damian chuckles, “I wouldn’t put it past Tech to go enlist a few shifters from the military,” the dark haired man gives a quick shake of his head, “If you need anything, just say fighter and whichever one of us is on duty will appear.”

He nods, and the both of them vanish, leaving the flat a lot quieter than when they had entered.

Settling back at his desk, his mind returns to the thoughts of the pack he is now a part of and what all it means. The idea that he has been assigned shifter guards intrigues him, makes him question why, and how that will affect things. Perhaps he should speak with Layard, see if he is actually part of a pack or not and if he has pack guards as well. With that in mind he sends an email to Amber, asking her arrange an appointment with Layard next week some time.

His mind is still whirling with all of the information as he processes it. It is going to be a long night, a very long night.


	4. First Full Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Chapter four is the beginning of chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)

_Mycroft’s POV_  
There is sixteen days between when he is unofficially accepted into the pack and the next full moon. As he now drives to the pack house he reflects on them and the events that they held.

Day one was a bit much, his mind almost in overload the entire day due to learning his brother is alive and the connection he can now feel to the pack. It is a most distracting feeling, particularly since he can focus on a particular piece of that connection and find himself feel the very base emotions of the person on the other end. The only ones he is able to easily identify is Doctor Watson, Tech, one who feels a lot like Tech and he thinks is Aidan from what Gregory has said, Gregory and his daughters, and a female who is a lot like Doctor Watson.

He probably had not made the best choice when he had tried to find his brother. But he had such a hard time believing that the cobra was correct and he would be unable to find him. Of course he had not expected the cobra’s reaction. For someone so thin and young looking he was surprisingly strong. Past that, as much as he hates to admit it, there had been a thrill of fear that coursed through his body though he had not acknowledge it until after the taller man had dropped him.

His wolf guard actually stayed outside the flat when he was home, allowing him his privacy to which he was thankful though he still wondered how he had acquired guards. Was he really considered family to the doctor? He would have to ask Gregory about that the next time they spoke.

Day two had been long. He had spent most of it catching up on paperwork and files. Along with a few brief meetings with other minor officials in other departments that report to him. Thursday is normally report day, since he was out for Thursday, they were doing it late. Each of the minor officials offered him politely worded well wishes without asking what the situation was. It our line of work, situations come up and it is best to just wish the other party well without actually asking what the problem was.

Twice his PA had insisted he eat one of the fruit and vegetable bars that had been sent with her. The fruit bar he was alright with, it tasted like peaches and apricots, the vegetable bar on the other hand was a bit too celery like for his tastes. Hopefully other vegetable bars would not taste like that because he would have to find a way to discretely get rid of them.

Day three was a Saturday but there were problems going on Mexico. Apparently there had been a mass of criminals who had turned themselves in. normally that would not be a cause for him to be involved but several had been on a list of men that were suspected of working for Moriarty and others off of the worst narcotic dealers lists. A few of which had originally been British citizens and were returned to be London, hence the reason for him being pulled into the situation.

Day four was a continuation of day three with nothing massive happening. Unless one counted that unfortunate business with Peter Cruddas, which was not something he really had to deal with, just keep an eye on. MI5 was already dealing with the intelligence involving that little political issue.

Day five was Monday. His first and longest appointment of the day was with Layard. Why Amber had scheduled it first when he would have to postpone thinking about the information he does not know. What he does know is he is rather thankful for the fact the older man understands immediately what the meeting is about. Even stranger is the fact that he can see silvery-blue marks on the other man’s neck and shoulders, along with the hint of a mark on his wrist.

His suspicion that the other politician was a shifter was correct. He was an alpha wolf, with ties to the royal family who are all human, not a single shifter in their tree. Even more interesting was the fact the older man was the head of the wolf council of the U.K., another thing for him to learn about apparently. However he was surprised when the older man states that the pack he has joined is the strongest in the U.K. and one of the strongest in Eastern Europe. Food for thought, that is for sure.

The rest of the conversation had gone smoothly, with the two discussing how this development would affect his position. He had also asked the older man about the fact he was assigned protectors just to get chuckled at. A large part of him had bristled at that, he did not need hand-outs. So Layard had explained it was common practice that those in dangerous jobs would have one to four protectors who were trained for just that practice, apparently his PA waiting outside the office was his primary guard but apparently his driver was a guard as well.

Day six is Tuesday and besides being a lot of meetings between different minor and major political players in Assad and Syrian situation. Assad had agreed to a cease-fire six days prior, now it was a matter of seeing if that cease-fire could actually be put into play and even work. It was not something he was confident would actually work.

Day seven is a continuation of day six, particularly since he never went back to his flat to rest, instead worked right on through until some of the issues are resolved or at least resolved enough that the minor officials connected to them can actually handle them.

Amber insists on feeding him more of those bars. He has discovered that he likes the peach-apricot, berry mixed, banana-lemon-lime, and cantaloupe-honeydew. From the vegetable bars he discovers he likes the bell pepper-tomato and buttery acorn squash ones, but cannot stand the potato-maze or any of the ones with celery in it. Those he takes one or two bites of before trashing them, only his annoying PA insists on giving him a different one to replace the trashed one, asking which flavors he is willing to eat and recording them.

Day eight is full of paperwork in the morning but he makes sure that he is done before the afternoon. He does not wish to miss his regularly scheduled dinner with the Detective Inspector, though he had gotten a text that afternoon stating it would be at Gregory’s house so they could talk without worry. It was a very interesting conversation about the regular aspects of the pack, a more in-depth look its structure, plus a charming session of questioning. He was surprised when he realized that Sophia could now smell his pack connection. Even more surprising is when she had fallen asleep on the sofa beside him, resting her head against his leg as she did so. It left him thinking about the fact he had once desired a family and never tried to find or make one due to his political position.

Day nine was dull. The vast majority of it was spent on more paperwork related to days six and seven.

Day ten Amber ordered him to do something relaxing for a few hours. Apparently she thinks he is stressing himself. Apparently the situation was not dire enough to pull an over nighter. Discovered that he liked pineapple-orange fruit bars, hates the lettuce flavored vegetable bars. Really, lettuce and celery, who puts those as primary flavors in food bars?

Day eleven sees him taking a plane to a conference to deal with the Syrian situation some more. Of course he cannot say where that conference was at or who was there.  


That lasted through days twelve, thirteen, and fourteen, with him getting back to the office early the morning of the fifteenth day only to be sent to his flat by his concern PA who is not happy with the fact his coloring is off. In an act of defiance on her part, his PA insists that he takes the rest of the night off, only work the morning from home the following day, and then take the weekend off. He really insists that he cannot do that but she manages to get Layard to agree with her, and so he is sent home which is really not where he wants to be.

On the plus side, it is a Thursday, after he catches a few hours sleep he can have dinner with Gregory or perhaps the entire Lestrade family. Since the loss of his brother he had grown closer to the older man, and he enjoyed being around the girls. He was actually surprised by the middle daughter, she was very quiet but when she did speak it was nearly always important or insightful for someone of her age. It was an overall pleasant evening, he enjoyed the family dynamics and spent part of the night in awe after he watched Charlotte and Sofia shift into their jackal forms to start playing with each other. Somehow he ended up having the small jackal fall asleep on his lap much like she had the week before in human form. A small part of him had felt guilty when he moved to leave because she seemed so comfortable but Charlotte back in her human form had taken the little girl up to bed.

It was the first time he had actually seen a shifter shift. Prior to that he had thought that the shifters could only take on partial traits, like how Tech has scales and a folded cobra’s hood. He was still having a hard time believing that they became the animal type they matched with. Even more surprising was the fact he could see the human intelligence in the shift, despite their forms they retained their human minds.

Gregory had offered him a ride to the pack meeting but he had declined, choosing to drive instead.

As he pulls up to the old house, he is struck by the fact it felt more like a home this time then the last time he was there and it had felt like he was the outsider. Of course it had not helped that he was there for a memorial for his brother. Sherlock…

When he gets out of the car, his eyes sweep the area noticing that there are seven other vehicles already here. Inside he can hear people but it does not seem to be as many the memorial, but then he is fairly early compared to what time he was told the actual meeting was.

He is in the middle of considering whether he is supposed to knock or just walk in when Mrs. Watson opens the door and smiles at him, “Ah, Mycroft isn’t it? Welcome!” ushering him in she repeats, “Welcome, come in, come in. John always was a bit slow with family members. No need to stand on formality. Now do you prefer Mycroft or another version of the name?”

He blinks once, eyes washing over her as he catches up. “Mycroft, thank you,” he answers as he steps through the door.

She smiles warmly at him, “Would you like a tour or just to discover where everything is on your own? Dinner will be in the same room as it was when you were here for the memorial,” there is sadness in her tone when she says memorial but otherwise not. “The pack meeting will also be in there as it is the only room that can hold the entire pack since its growth.”

Tapping his umbrella once, distractedly he answers, “If you do not mind, I would prefer to learn it on my own.”

Happily nodding, she replies, “That is perfectly acceptable, feel free to go anywhere within the house, though on the upper floors stay out of the rooms with shut doors.”

Patting his arm once, she wanders off greeting people as they enter or as she spots them, taking a moment to stop and speak with several of them as well.

Giving a subtle shake of his head he decides to drift from room to room to see what differences there are between this meeting and the last time he was here. While he prides himself on being the Iceman, it is difficult to stand in the ballroom converted into a large dining hall where the primary memorial for his brother had been held.

He is just getting ready to head to the library when an older gentleman that he identifies as Doctor Watson’s father looks at him and growls. “What the hell is another human doing here? This one is not bonded to anyone within the pack!”

Turning his attention to the older man, he adopts his most Iceman expression and proceeds to politely rip him to shreds. The doctor’s father tries to get the John to stop him, but the doctor just smiles.

When he is done, the doctor looks at him and states, “Thanks Mycroft,” before he drifts off a smile curving the younger man’s lips. Interesting.

He had just gotten to the library and started browsing through the books when Mouse appears beside him, “Hello, I’m supposed to tell you dinners done. Figured it would also be a good time to see if you want history tutoring or not?”

“Thank you for informing me of dinner,” he answers, “I do not think so at this time. However a lesson in customs might be of use.”

She smiles, tilting her head to the side, “I only know the basics, mice are rather informal past the bows, however Aidan or Eric could teach you any of the oldest traditions. Though I would suggest Aidan more than Eric,” a mischievous smile curves her lips, “He’s easier to deal with, though no less formal. Not as moody as his sire.”

He inclines his head, accepting that advice, “Then I will seek Eric for lessons.”

Chuckling, “Well that should be interesting to watch, I’m not actually sure I would be willing to ask crabby for lessons,” she pauses tilting her head to the side, “Actually that might be best, if you are anything like Sherlock than you will be fine. Those two worked a perfectly good way of dealing with mutual issues.”

Shrugging, she motions to the door and walks with him out of the library and to the dining area. “Just sit wherever you would like, don’t be surprised if some of the pack, mostly the military and Baskerville pack members to come to meet you.” She smiles at him briefly, “When the meeting begins he will call you forward to join the pack formally. That’s not done until the majority of those here have finished eating.” Pausing for a moment she grins before commenting, “And dinner is as much as you can eat as long as there is food on the tables. The nest mothers adore making food for everyone.”

He nods, recalling that it was a buffet style. Silently, he joins the line for food, grabbing a plate and waiting patiently, surprised at how calmly the children in line are behaving. Several times he glances around for the Lestrade family, mildly shocked to not see them yet. It is also surprising the wide variety of choices. An even more surprising is the fact is the majority of the choices are healthy. After he has selected his food, he finds a quiet spot to sit down, mostly so he can watch everyone here and get a reading on them.

He is surprised that all of the family units he has seen are solid, there is not one case adultery or couple who looked like they were having serious marriage problems. Actually the only family issue he can see is between Doctor Watson and the man he is certain is his father. Pretty much everyone else is seems to get along fine with their family members. Interesting, very interesting, also very unusual, he cannot recall ever seeing a group this big without family problems before of some variety. Was the rift between them due to the fact that the son is leader of the pack and not the father?

“Hello, you’re new, I’m Li Xia,” a young golden brown Chinese girl according to her mild accent greets him as she settles into the seat near him.

Inclining his head politely, he replies in Mandarin, “A pleasure to make you acquaintance, I am Holmes Mycroft.”

A brilliant smile lights her face as she replies in kind, “Another who understands, that is wonderful, I speak English more than this, but it is nice to use this as well. How are you Mr. Holmes?”

“Alright thank you, yourself?” he answers, surprised that this British wolf pack has such obvious outlanders in it. His mind quickly cataloguing what Gregory had said the previous night about the pack being divided into four parts. That means this girl was from Baskerville, he would have to ask Doctor Watson about that, because there was far more going on there then he suspected.

For a few minutes the two of them continue to converse, she points out the different pack members, mentioning something that she finds important about each. Eventually a slightly darker colored man of Asian, probably Chinese as well, descent comes over to the table. He politely introduces himself then tugs her away much to her amusement.

Finishing his plate, he considers getting a second but decides against it. Instead he heads to the water buckets for the dishes, carefully placing them in there respective spots. He is getting ready to head back to his seat when Sofia comes bounding up to him with her endless energy.

“You’re here!” she squeals happily, “Come sit with us, come sit with us,” she chants as she tugs him towards the seat he had been at just a few minutes before.

“Sorry Mycroft, I told her you would be back, we got here just as you got up, but she didn’t want to listen.” Gregory states as the two of them reach the table.

“It is alright,” he murmurs, shocking himself when he really means it. Of course he had already realized that he liked all three of the girls.

“Hello Mycroft,” the middle girl states softly as she takes the seat in front of him.

“Hullo,” the oldest girl remarks as she scans the room looking for someone, probably the boy that Gregory had mentioned was courting her.

While he knows seventeen is not too young to date, he still questions the fact that she is dating with the intent to be married. What if they found that they rushed into things? He would have to ask about the bond situation that the doctor had mentioned. Perhaps he should take Mouse up on her offer for lessons, though it felt odd to be considering lessons at his age.

For several minutes he spends time speaking with the Lestrade family before a slender Middle Eastern looking man calls everyone to attention. Despite his looks the man’s accent is purely British, so he must come from a mixed household. Quickly everyone in the room falls silent, the vast majority of them moving from the back of the room to the middle of the room, shifting the tables out of the way so everyone can bring up their chairs as desired.

He must be Jacob, his mind quickly supplies as he recalls what Gregory had said about pack leadership.

Once the shuffling is done, Doctor Watson steps to the forefront, making a few announcements that he files away for later before calling his name. Standing, he strides to the front, unfastening his sleeve as he goes because he determines this will be a repeat of what he had done at the flat.

When he is directly in front of the smaller man, the doctor starts speaking again, “Mycroft Holmes, do you accept the responsibilities and boons of the pack?”

“I do,” he states clearly, wishing that someone would have filled him in on how this was going to occur.

The doctor smiles at him, offering his left arm with clean skin which causes his eyes to widen slightly, “Welcome to the pack,” _I am hiding my bondmark since the vast majority of the pack does not know he lives,_ the shifter announces while also speaking directly to him.

He repeats the actions of pressing their wrists together. A tingle of awareness goes through him but it is nothing like the shock of the first time, the overwhelming force of power. When the doctor releases his arm the beta offers his arm, and he repeats the gesture with as well, before doing so with the female version of the doctor and the cobra. The biggest thrill of power he feels is from that cobra who gives him a speculative look before inclining his head. He has been dismissed often enough to understand that’s what it was.

As he makes his way back to his seat, he listens as the doctor bids everyone, “Please welcome Mycroft with the same courtesy as each of you receives. He is great cat like, touch only when bid.”

There is a chorus of “Alright.” “Sir.” and “Alpha.” throughout the room.

Not long after that, the doctor bids everyone that the meeting is closed and he notices that it becomes more of a social time. The dishes and what little leftovers there are, are cleared away, while fresh drinks including hot teas and coffee is set out for everyone to drink while they visit. Where before it seemed everyone stayed in their family group or with close friends, now the people were mingling freely, splitting off to visit with people they hadn’t seen in a few weeks. Charlotte and Sofia quickly bid him good evening before taking off to join the others of their respective ages while Madeline announces that she is going to the library to get away from all of the noise.

When they are alone he inquires, “What did he mean by ‘great cat like’?”

Smiling, his companion answers, “He was telling them that you don’t want a lot of people touching you without being invited to. Wolves are very tactile creatures, they are some of the touchest shifters out there, right up there with mice and crows, the funny thing is, pretty close to the entire top of the pack is non-wolf, in a wolf pack.” The older man pauses for a moment, tilting his head thoughtfully before stating, “Though I don’t think our pack actually counts as a wolf pack any more with so many non-wolves in it.”

“Can you tell me about the Baskerville shifters?” he queries after a few minutes, now noticing that there was seven who appeared to be of Chinese origin, five who appeared to be Indian in origin, one German girl by her movement and features, and four from South Africa.

“Come on, let’s go find a quiet place where most of those in here will not hear,” Gregory answers, standing and heading towards the drink table to collect something before leaving the room.

They quickly pass through the halls until they get to a small longue well away from the rest of the pack.

“The majority of the wolves of the Watson pack do not know what happened or why their alpha chose to accept a bunch of non-wolves, they just know they were rescued from a bad situation.” his companion tells him before going on to describe the situation that the military pack and Sherlock had dealt with the previous summer. Explaining everything from how they got the case to how they dealt with it to how the primary reason they were there tried to escape only to accidently kill himself. The amount of corruption that is revealed has him reevaluating the protocols in place to keep that very problem down. Several times he asks for clarification to make sure he has not missed a detail.

When they are done speaking he is shocked to see it is nearly eleven pm, and Gregory states he needs to collect his girls for the night, bidding him good night.

“Well Mycroft, how are you?” the doctor inquires a few minutes later as he appears in the door way.

“I am processing all of the information I have been provided tonight. I had not realized that Baskerville had become so corrupt.” He states in answer.

“It’s been dealt with, the new garrison will make sure that there are no more testing on shifters, gifted, or human without prior approval from the government of all three species.”

He nods distractedly, still trying to figure out who he was going to roast for allowing it to happen to begin with.

“Do you need a ride home?” the wolf queries after several moments of silence.

“No, but I will be leaving now, please bid the mistress of the house goodnight for me,” he states calmly as he stands and heads to the door.

Smiling slightly, the shorter man nods once, “Alright, have a good night Mycroft.”

He leaves with a single minded focus, making sure that he has his umbrella before he goes and very happy that the roads are mostly dead between the pack house and his flat since he is not paying as close attention as he probably should. When he gets home, he quickly showers before going to bed. He is more tired than he thought he was.

Several hours later he is awoken to a member of his security team giving a shout and a knock at the door.


	5. Being Courted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would be greatly appreciated, thank you to any one for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)

_Mycroft’s POV_  
Getting to his feet, he quickly grabs the knife that he keeps within reaching distance as he makes his way to the door where he discovers his government guards attempting to pen a small female down only she keeps moving out of reach, her eyes wide. In her hands is a small box.

Opening the door slowly he demands, “What is going on here?” in his iciest tone.

His two guards freeze for a moment, during which time the small female stops directly before him offering the box. Curiously, he arches a single eyebrow at her.

“You are Mycroft Holmes? I’m supposed to deliver this box, as tradition dictates only the person who it is for may touch it, not them,” she tells him with scorn. “I can smell a wolf, ask them if you are worried.” The second statement is said softly so only he can hear her.

“Fighter?” he states questioningly.

 _She is speaking the truth. Courting gifts are only touched by the courter who selects it, the messenger who delivers, and the courted who receives it._ The wolf explains without appearing, _There are entire services who are oath bound to protect the courting gifts to ensure that they are not tampered with. Most of those services are run by packs of mice or crows, the young lady before you is a mouse from one of type of services._

He inclines his head, “I am,” and holds out his hand in order to accept the box.

She sets it in his hand, politely bows, and bolts without another word.

Softly, so his guards do not hear he queries, “Can you explain the tradition further?” while aloud he orders, “At ease,” for the two guards before going back in.

 _I’ll bridge the link so you do not have to keep asking questions aloud, which part needs further explanation?_ The wolf answers, he is certain that the wolf is Damian.

 _Why are there messenger services, and what do you mean courting?_ He specifies, thinking of his to primary curiosities.

 _Traditionally when one shifter or shifter-child desires to court another or a human, they are given gifts. This is done for the formation of longer term relationships, often done between mates as a way to show that the mate is selected by choice and not just because of the bonding mark._ The wolf explains, _Since potential mates are not always from the same pack, or even the same species, there are a set of traditions that dictate how to do the courting. Often times, one of the pair will express their interest through either gifts or flowers, occasionally both. Since scheduling is not always compatible or the potential mates may not live close by, the special messenger services were designed. Each messenger sworn under a blood oath to allow none to touch the gifts except for those they are to be delivered to. To attack a messenger draws a Tracker into the situation. Since Trackers are judge, jury, and execution, few wish to do that._ The wolf pauses for a moment before remarking, _Traditionally there will be a gift every day at the same time. You may wish to warn your human guards that there will be another messenger tomorrow with another gift._

 _What happens if I am not available to deliver the gift to?_ He asks since he knows there are times he is called out of the country.

 _Then the messenger will hold on to it until you are unless the contract states otherwise at which point they will return the courter._ Damian states evenly.

 _Thank you_ , he remarks before changing his focus to the small box in his hands. He feels the link vanish a moment later.

Opening the box, he is mildly surprised to find a small collection of cakes from his favorite bakery. There are only three people who that information and he cannot see either of them courting him, so that leaves number three. Despite that, the idea startles him. After all, he has been flirting with the detective inspector for years in his way, why would the DI decide to court him now, what is different? Was the DI waiting for him to belong to the pack? That could not be it because he had flirted prior to his joining the pack, though he had still been married. Of course nothing would have come of that early flirting because the DI was married. Perhaps he had been waiting to not be married? But he had not been married for at least a year. Then what? He would have to pay close attention next time he sees him.

When he goes to work Monday he will notify Amber of the gift delivery so that she can notify the guards that there will be more of them.

While eating a quick breakfast of oatmeal and fruit he gets a call from his PA calling him back to work. He showers, dresses, grabs the box of cakes, and heads out the door to the waiting black Mercedes. Inside his assistant waits, her phone attached to her hand, and her gaze focused.

After the car door is shut she looks up at him and questions, “What was the box that was delivered this morning?”

He opens it up, showing her, while stating, “Apparently courting gifts.”

“Really? I can hope from that charming detective inspector.” She remarks as she looks up from her phone, a small smile on her lips.

“I believe so, though I am at a loss as to why,” he remarks as he looks through the files that she has waiting for him including a schedule of the day’s meetings and reports.

Frowning, she asks, “Why? He has been flirting for years. He has waited the traditionally dictated year since the end of his last relationship to begin courting for a new one. Shifter and shifter-children are a traditional group. Even those who do not hold with many traditions tend to keep the courting and mating traditions. I wish it was the same with the gifted.”

It is his turn to frown as his looks up, “Another set of traditions? Hmmm, I shall need to arrange a time to discuss this with the cobra sooner than I thought.” He mutters before going back to his paper work. It was going to be a long and possibly grueling day, not that this surprising. Amber had wanted him to take today off but had called him while he was in the middle of breakfast which meant it had to be a severe problem.

Sure enough it was, apparently the Syrian situation had gotten worse rather than better and some of the ones who were supposed to be solving it were making it worse. How typical. It appeared he was going to have a long and frustrating day of dealing with the goldfish and fools. Sadly, it actually ends up being two days, nearly three before he is finally able to go home and sleep. During that time he happily munches on the cakes, enjoying every single bite much to the amusement of his PA along with eating a few of those fruit bars.

Very early Monday morning he finally makes it home. Besides striping down and quickly throwing on a pair pajama bottoms, he does nothing before collapsing into bed. Just a little bit after nine am there is a knock at the door, he groggily gets out of bed, grabs a house robe, and heads to the door. The same woman who had delivered his first box is standing on the door step to his flat, scowling at his guards with narrow eyes, a back pack thrown across her shoulder.

“Can I help you?” he inquires, voice soft but a bit cold. He is too tired to try for polite at the moment.

The woman does a partial bow before tugging the back pack off of her shoulder and pulling two packages out. “Is there a particular time that will be best for delivering these?” she inquires as she offers the two boxes, one which is long and thin, the other which is just a small square.

“I normally leave for work at seven am, if you are here five minutes before, I will be waiting on the door step unless I am called in early.” He replies, ignoring the noises that the human guards make and the chuckling in his head from the wolf guard.

Once more she partially bows confirming, “Five minutes prior to seven am. As long as I have the package at that time it shall be delivered,” before she bids him, “Good day,” and takes off, sending glares at both of his guards as she goes.

Shaking his head, he retreats into the flat, heading to his table in order to open them. He could deduce what is in them, but he is intentionally not, enjoying the idea that someone is trying to give him gifts. Except for a single birthday present or Christmas present per family member, he does not recall gifts being a regular part of his life when he was growing up. After the car accident and his mother had started changing. Then, after father’s death there were even more changes and less presents.

Sitting down, he decides to open the bigger box first, only slightly chuckling when he discovers a set of ties in a variety of sizes all done with the same golden, silver, and rich brown with a geometric pattern he does not recognize but instinctively knows has meaning. He will have to ask Gregory about the meaning later. Putting the box of ties aside, he lifts the second, small box and opens it carefully. Within it is a slender tie clip of copper with a polished and oval shaped carnelian in the center. He would have to look into the meaning of the stone and metal to see if there was any special meaning to it as well.

He lifts the tie clip, deciding to wear it with today's dark brown suit.

Since he was now awake, he follows his normal morning routine before calling for his car. It should be a moderately easy day at the office and while his gift would not be seen, he would know it’s there, giving him a reason to smile when alone.

"Shouldn't you still be abed?" His PA demands as he slides into the back seat of the car.

A smile tugs at his lips as he replies, "Perhaps, but I am awake so I might as well work now."

She shakes her head, sighing softly, "I have acquired more of the fruit and vegetable bars you enjoyed from your pack healer. I was startled to learn she is a viper."

Nodding he responds, "Most the upper management of the pack is non-wolves." Shrugging he continues, "It is my understanding that the pack is unusual in being so mixed without it being through bonds of family.”

"It is very unusual, but then, Doctor Watson is not the typical type of alpha." She remarks with a nod before going back to looking at her phone.

The rest of the ride is silent as he looks over his files, which are just finished and edited forms of the last few days work. He is also scheduled for several meetings next day that he can prepare for. Upon getting to the office the two of them head to the office first to work for a few hours. When he would have skipped lunch a few hours later, Amber puts a couple of those bars out for him to eat. After his quick lunch, one more emergency meeting is called about Syrian. Once he gets the diplomat who called the meeting to calm down, it goes smoothly. It is a few hours after dinner time when they finally get done with the emergency meeting, so Amber brings him tea and sandwiches to eat while he finishes his paperwork before heading home.

The next morning he is at the door five minutes before when he told the mouse he would be there. He keeps telling himself that he is not excited at the idea of a gift showing up, but he knows that is a lie. The idea that someone is willingly courting him is quite different and makes him smile when there is no one else around. The very few relationships he had attempted as a teenager had all been with him pursuing them, never had it been the other person pursuing him.

At exactly five minutes to, the small female comes walking up to the door so that she is knocking before the minute hand moves. A part of him wants to smile at the obvious sarcasm, but he doesn’t, instead he opens the door and greets her.

“Good morning.”

She nods once, replying, “Morning sir, here is your package,” before she turns and leaves, ignoring his guards since they are not trying to stop her this time.

Perhaps he should find out her name, he thinks to himself as he heads inside with the small box. Since it is not a very big box, he realizes it has to be some form of personal adornment. Settling into his chair, he carefully opens it to find a collar bar of brass with a spiral design on it. Most would never be able to tell it was not gold unless they looked at it very carefully. It is another item that can be useful and decorative.

So the pattern was set. In the mornings he would wait for the delivery mouse’s arrival, open his gift in the privacy of his flat, put it away, and then go to work. The fifth day he had asked the mouse her name, which apparently startled her according to the look on her face, before she had answered Nadia. Following that he would greet her by name, as she would do for him. She also left him a phone number he could call or text for days that he would not be home or in case he wanted it delivered elsewhere she could.

They ended up canceling that first Thursday after the detective inspector began the courting process. Apparently the case that Gregory had was rather brutal, while he was dealing with the new Syrian resolution and treaty that had been signed.

The following week they actually manage to schedule their regular dinner in, though it is an hour later than they normally would and at the Lestrade home.

When he shows up just a few minutes before when they are scheduled, he is surprised to see that Gregory’s vehicle is not in the driveway. He is considering calling when the front door opens and Gregory steps out onto the porch, waving at him before stepping back in and leaving his front door slightly open in invitation. Turning his car off, he gets out, grabs his umbrella, and heads inside.

Once within the house, his gaze sweeps the entry way while he removes his over coat. That same feeling of home seems to fill everything. The house itself smells like cooking beef and vegetables, with a slightly fruity scent to it.

“It smells delicious,” he murmurs to the older man as he enters the area between the kitchen and dining room.

Turning towards him, Gregory smiles, “Thank you, the girls are over to my sisters for the afternoon, according to Chare so I can have a proper discussion with you,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, “Silly girl forgets that I have done this before.”

A soft chuckle escapes him as he nods in understanding. It is rather common for teenagers to attempt to give their parents and adults advice.

Tilting his head, the older man looks at him thoughtfully for a moment before stating, “Should I have asked before sending courting gifts, both of my daughters with a sense of scent have assured me that they would be welcome.” He pauses, giving a small shake of his head, “Of course I planned to do so anyways…” his voice trails off.

For one of the rare times in his life, he can feel his cheeks heating up as he thinks of the little gifts he had received over the last two weeks. They were all well taken and appreciated. No one else had ever thought to court him. He was expected to court them. “Both daughters?” he repeats, thinking he must be referring to the oldest and youngest.

Nodding, the detective inspector remarks, “Both, though more Sofia than Chare, apparently Sofia thinks I am being too slow.”

Another chuckle escapes him, “I have enjoyed it. No one has ever sent me gifts before. However, the first few times sent the guards into a tizzy.”  


Grinning the older man remarks, “Would have been worse had I picked a jackal deliver service like my dad was prompting me to do. I figured the mice were better, besides, the pack has other contracts with their nest so it worked out better.” Tilting his head thoughtfully he softly asks, “Would you mind something more eventually occurring between us?”

Giving Gregory one of his rare real smiles he steps up to the slightly shorter man and hesitantly kisses him. Hands fluttering around as he tries to decide where to hold. It has been years since he has kissed anyone and he actually wants this to mean something and not ruin this. Within moments Gregory has shifted to fully face him, hands lifting to cup his jaw and hold him in place as he deepens the kiss. His eyes flutter closed as he continues to kiss the older man back, his own hands coming to wrap around him.

When they finally stop, just resting their foreheads against each other and breathing heavily, his mind is curiously blank. He cannot recall it ever being this focused or quiet. Is this why so many people are willing to kill? This feeling?

He is mildly surprised when Gregory steps back and he realizes that he is pressed against the cupboard. There is a satisfied smile on the older man’s face as he pulls dinner out of the oven and sets it on the table.

“Dinner,” the older man remarks with a self satisfied smile.


	6. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would be greatly appreciated, thank you to any one for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Originally this week was supposed to be dedicated to this alone, however the muses decided to take a prompt and run with it, so I will be alternating between the two of them. For any of you all who enjoys smut with just a touch of plot, you might enjoy it. Sorry its sort of short, this is where it cut off in my head. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking

_Greg’s POV_  
The kiss between himself and the politician was the kind that changed a person’s view on life. if he had been questioning the attraction before now, he was not going to any more. That kiss definitely cleared that up. It was one thing for his daughters to reassure him that the politician wanted him. It was another thing to know for a fact.

Setting their dinner down on the table, he turns to grab the dishes off of the counter before sitting them down on the table. Then he grabs a carafe of orange juice that he had planned for with dinner to place on the table as well. A quick glance at the table tells him that everything he needs is laid out. Motioning to the table he states, "Dinner," as smile curves his lips.

Slowly moving away from the cupboard he was still leaning against, the politician moves over to the table and settling into the seat next to him as he sits down. For a few minutes they are silent as they each make their plates. Eventually he decides to ask Mycroft if he would be open to being courted for the next six months. At the end of the six months they can evaluate the relationship as is standard for a courting relationship. Of course by tradition he should ask the head of the politician's family within the pack. However since he already knows that John approves of the relationship, he has not asked the wolf about it. Of course if they ever decided to formalize his relationship he would follow the traditions.

Tilting his head to the side he watches the politician for a moment before he inquires, “I know you said that you have been alright with me sending courting gifts for the last two weeks. As tradition dictates, I wish to formally ask your permission to court you for the next six months.”

For a minute the younger man thinks about it before nodding his head once slowly, “That is acceptable,” he pauses for a moment before querying, “What all will it include?”

Still smiling he replies, “Dinner, small gifts that are mostly delivered daily, though sometimes not on days we have arrangements. Spending time together at either home, yours or mine, or doing something on the town. Officially meeting each other’s family.” He lists off the common things, mentally chuckling over the fact that they are all things his eldest daughter is currently doing with her cobra.

Again the younger man nods thoughtfully as he smiles one of his rare, real smiles. “That is more than acceptable. Why a six month time limit?”

A slight blush covers his skin as he answers, “We are both adults who have known each other for a while, so I figure that we will know whether we wish to do anything else with our relationship by then.” He pauses, thinking about it for a moment before continuing, “At least that’s my hope.”

“Logical,” the politician murmurs then asks, “Is that also a tradition?”

Grinning he shrugs, he can feel his skin flushing a bit more, “Sort of, most view anything short of a year as not long enough. However I figure that we have known each other in one form or another for years,” he shrugs one more time, “hence my reasoning for six months.”

“Ah,” the younger man hums thoughtfully, his stormy eyes focused on him, “During this courting period are shows of affection permissible?”

A huge smile curves his lips as he nods strongly, “Oh yeah. It’s even encouraged to test compatibility.”

“Good,” a blush covers the politician’s cheeks as he continues to speak, “I have found myself desiring to repeat it.”

He is distracted by the way the younger man’s freckles stand out against his pink skin. He is even further distracted by the fact that the auburn-haired man wants to repeat the kissing. Apparently he is not the only one that that kiss was life changing for. That is amazing, truly amazing. It is far more than he had ever hoped for. Falling silent, the two of them continue to eat there dinner. Neither as anything as they consider the discussion so far.

They are just about to done with dinner when the younger man remarks, “Dinner has been excellent, I never would have considered mixing roast with peaches, walnuts, carrots, and onions.”

Beaming, he queries, “Do you have room for dessert?”

A curious and heated look enters the younger man’s eyes, “What is for dessert?”

Mischievously he replies, “Cinnamon peach cobbler with French vanilla ice cream,” he smiles playfully.

“A peachy dinner tonight I see,” the younger man returns with his own playful smirk.

“Oh yeah, while not the best type of peaches, it works for tonight,” the look he gives the young man makes it very clear what peaches he is referring to.

That blush that had faded from the younger man’s skin returns and is even brighter than it had been previously. They have spent years flirting but never as direct as that. Still it feels good to do so and know that something might come of it. That there is something building up between them and there is a possible chance of something happening between them in the future. Again the two of them are quiet while they finish their meal. After they are done with dinner, he cleans up the dishes, only mildly surprised when the younger man helps him. There is not a lot of leftovers, but what there are go into the fridge where he pulls out the cobbler and shoves it into the still warm oven.

Once he has set the timer he is startled to turn around and find himself nearly nose to nose with the politician. There is a determined look in the younger man’s eyes as he steps closer so their bodies are nearly touching. Slowly the slightly taller man leans down to press his lips against his. It is soft, explorative, a bit tentative even as if the politician is not certain of himself. Eventually the younger man deepens the kiss as he runs his tongue over his teeth. With a smile he accepts the exploration, enjoying the way the younger man feels pressed up against him, slender fingers cupping his jaw as he holds him in place to kiss him.

The only reason they break apart is the timer for the cobbler goes off.

Breathing heavily the two of them just stare at each other. He is certain that there is a stupid smile on his face but he cannot help it. There is an intense look of concentration on the younger man’s face that turns to one of satisfaction.

“Well then, I should get that before it burns,” he remarks a bit breathlessly still feeling a bit overwhelmed by how forward his potential mate. Too bad he is a jackal-child and not a jackal, he is fairly certain that if he was actually a shifter he would be Mycroft’s mate. Of course if he was a shifter and not a shifter-child he wouldn’t have his girls and he would not trade his girls for anything. Well then, it’s alright.

“Then you might want to grab it,” the politician suggests as he steps backwards.

He smiles, turning to grab the pot holder and pull the pan out of the oven before he turns it off. “The girls actually helped with this, Chare and Madeline prepared it so all I had to do was cook it.” Once the cobbler is on the table he grabs the bowls, silverware, and ice cream as well.

The two of them enjoy their dessert, spending nearly all of it flirting in between bites. After dinner and dessert the two of them retreat to the living room where he turns on music and they spend the rest of the evening chatting about whatever comes to mind. It is calm and relaxing, just time spent together. The girls get home somewhere around ten pm, and it is not long after that that Mycroft excuses himself for the night after thanking the girls for the cinnamon peach cobbler.

He walks the younger man to his car, giving him a rather sweet and gentle kiss goodbye before he leaves. When he gets back inside all three daughters are standing expectantly near the door.

“So?” Chare queries, putting a wealth of meaning behind that single word.

“How’d it go?” Madeline demands, hand on hip as she watches him with big eyes.

Bouncing in spot, Sofia barely waits for her sisters to stop talking before questioning, “Did he enjoy dinner? Did you enjoy dinner? Are you going to properly court him? Is he going to be our new second-parent? What about dessert? Did you kiss him besides goodbye?”

Laughing softly, he hugs his girls, pulling all three close to him, “Calm down Sofia, what does your sense of smell tell you?”

She hugs him back as she lifts her head in the air and intentionally sniffs. “You are both happy and smelled sort of like she does when she is in heat.” The young girl answers quickly, pointing at her oldest sister who starts blushing.

“There you have it, we both enjoyed dinner and dessert. As for the rest of it, yes I am going to court him, yes I kissed him, no you do not get details, and we will see what happens with the courting before we determine anything with the second parent situation.” he answers the girls, primarily his youngest though he knows his other two daughters are curious too. Kissing each daughter’s forehead he states, “Its nearly bed time, go get cleaned up so you can go to school tomorrow.”

“Alrighty Daddy,” Chare answers, before kissing him on the cheek and rubbing hers against his for a moment.

Madeline nods once, a serious expression on her face, “Just be careful Dad, I do not want to see you hurt again like she did.” She then quickly hugs him before taking off upstairs after her sister.

“I don’t wanna go get ready for bed so I can go to school tomorrow! I want to know how things went with your date with Mr. Mycroft!” his youngest just about wails, despite that she still gives him a hug before muttering, “Goodnight Daddy,” and slowly dragging herself up the stairs to her room.

Snorting, he sets to cleaning up what’s left of the dishes as he reflects on the evening and how everything went. It was definitely far better than he expected.


	7. Greg's Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> So the goal is to catch this up before Easter so for Easter I can update Seeking, please leave plenty of reviews to prompt that goal! I greatly appreciate all of them. 
> 
> Thanks to NoOrdinarySouthernGirl for the sound boarding and help when I floundered!

_Greg’s POV  
_ The six days following his dinner with Mycroft went in a flash, between work and the girls. He is surprised when on Wednesday both Aidan and Mycroft show up. The two tall men seem to both freeze on the porch, silver eyes and stormy eyes studying each other seriously before the cobra politely inclines his head much to his shock. It is the first time he has seen the younger man pay respects to any male besides John and his father, even with him he had not given that sort of respects paid.

Still, before he has a chance to open the door, his eldest daughter does so, a huge smile on her face.

“You both made it!” she happily exclaims as she pulls the door open, reaching out and tugging the cobra in while motioning to the politician to follow.

He is not certain which one is a bit stiffer, but they both look like they do not understand her energy.

“So you two relax, I promise we don’t bite, I gotta go finish dinner,” she tells the politician and cobra before turning and just about skipping back to the kitchen.

His middle daughter pops her head out of the kitchen and dining room long enough to flicker her fingers in a quick hello before rejoining her sister.

Chuckling he mutters, “Well that is unexpected,” tilting his head politely in his direction the cobra quickly with draws to the kitchen so he turns his attention to the politician, “I thought we were meeting for our regular dinner tomorrow?”

Straightening his tie, the auburn-haired man responds softly, “Charlotte requested my presence tonight in celebration of your birthday since you work on Friday.” He pauses for a moment, before querying, “I can leave if you would like?”

He shakes his head smiling, “No, please stay, I just wasn’t told the girls were doing something for my birthday, I tend to ignore it normally.”

“Not this year! We have a house, and a car that runs really good, she’s gone, you’re courting someone we wouldn’t mind having as a second-parent, and Chare’s being courted by her cobra, all is good. So we are celebrating!” his youngest remarks as she comes trotting down the steps from upstairs, “Hi Mycroft!”

“Hello Sofia,” the auburn-haired man murmurs politely in response, “Are your classes well?”

She beams at him, pausing just a bit before them to reply, “They are good, I’m passing all of them, and I might be able to skip another year at the end of this year.”

“I’m not sure where she gets the intelligence from, none of our blood relatives are as intelligent as she is, but that’s alright, we luckily belong to a pack with several geniuses for her to work with.” He states rather proudly, quite pleased with his daughter.

The politician nods once, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips.

He hopes that Mycroft realizes he is one of those geniuses he is counting within the pack.

“I’m going to see if Madeline and Chare need any help,” his youngest announces before heading into the kitchen.

“Silly girl,” he murmurs affectionately, before clearing his throat and inquiring, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Teas almost ready!” he hears from the kitchen, he’s moderately certain that it’s his oldest.

A moment later the cobra appears in the door way, “The ladies have requested I inform you dinner is done,” the younger man remarks softly.

“Thank you Aidan,” he replies with a smile to the younger man who nods and turns on his heel. “Odd,” he mutters watching the slender man.

For some reason the young cobra seems to have fallen almost into the same sort of coolness as when he first started coming over two months prior. He is curious why but not planning on asking.

 _He thinks a great deal, far faster than most humans, I do not filter as well as Eric, so it takes more concentration to not pay too much attention. Unfortunately that means I am not blocking as well as normal._ The cobra remarks softly against his mind. _So I should apologize now for the fact I am in all of your heads while trying to filter him out._

 _Don’t worry about,_ he replies with a small mental smile.

“Is something wrong, Gregory?” the politician inquires politely.

“Hmmmm, oh no,” he smiles at his hopefully-to-be lover, “Aidan was just answering a question I was thinking.”

“Ah.”

“Shall we go eat?” he suggests with another smile.

Instead of speaking, the taller man nods turning and heading into the dining room, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips when he spots the room.

“Really?” he queries trying not to laugh at the fact the girls seem to have gone overboard.

Sofia comes bouncing up, “Sit down! Sit down! Sit down!” she exclaims happily. “I commandeered Aidan to help me put them up.”

“She originally wanted to put more up,” the cobra remarks as he sets out the dishes, “I was not cooperating, this is almost a bit much.”

“Thanks girls and Aidan,” he states as he looks around at the balloons, wall sign, and little pile of gifts next to his seat.

Sitting down in his spot, he smiles at them all as Madeline and Chare set the food on the table. For a minute his politician glances around before his youngest daughter gently pushes him towards the seat next to him with a smile before plopping down next to him. Across from Mycroft is Aidan with Chare beside, and Madeline at the end of the table directly across from him.

“Happy birthday Daddy,” Chare tells him with a smile.

“You should eat while it is warm,” Sofia tells him seriously while making herself a plate.

Smiling at his daughter he responds, “Alright baby-girl.”

With that he sets to making a plate for himself, watching out of corner of his eye as his politician does the same slowly and waiting until the others have taken some before putting a bit on his plate. Actually, Aidan was doing the same. Both were also eating with perfect manners. As they ate the six of them chat softly about their day and the events that occurred, at least as much as any of them can. He is mildly surprised that the cobra is still speaking aloud since he knows that he does not do so very often, he must feel comfortable then. He is also surprised by the ease in which the cobra and politician actually get along.

When they are done eating and the table is barely cleared, his youngest starts bouncing in place eying his pile of gifts with nearly as much excitement as when it is her birthday.

“Come on! Come on!” she starts to chant.

“Shush! Cake first, then gifts, same order as it is for all our birthdays,” his oldest remarks as she goes to fetch the cake from the other room.

“Awwww Chare….” The younger girl starts to whine only to be interrupted by his middle daughter.

“Quiet,” she snaps, both aloud and with a quick flick of her fingers. In recent months she has taken to signing as often as speaking, working on increasing her speed and understanding of it. She has also been working on both versions, switching between British and American Sign Language with a surprising amount of ease. Actually, some of her teachers were concerned about that, because she can talk so they do not understand that she does not like to because of her lisp and slight stutter.

Before he has a chance to say anything his eldest is back with a square cake covered in blue frosting, the top of it designed to look like the front of the TARDIS, a birthday candle in place of the handle.

“I made the cake, Sofia made the frosting, and Madeline applied the frosting,” Chare tells him while Madeline fetches the dishes.

“I am sure it will taste as good as it looks, you three are great cooks.” He tells hers with a grin, “Not sure where you get that from.”

It’s his middle daughter that responds, “From you of course, just because you are not home most the time due to work, does not make you a bad cook.”

“She’s right, wait ‘till you’ve had his lamb and mushroom gravy on rice.” His youngest cuts in.

“Your salmon niçoise,” his oldest remarks with a smile, “always awesome.”

“If I recall you are the one who made the summer stew last week,” the cobra remarks as he signs it as well, going back and forth with his middle daughter, “It was different than the one I grew up eating, but no less good.”

Hands up he grins at the teenagers and child, “Alright, I give up, see what I get to deal with?” he queries of the politician with a small smirk.

With a completely straight face the auburn-haired man remarks, “It sounds as if you are down playing your abilities.”

Chuckling, he grabs the knife to cut the cake, serving each person a piece. He makes sure to give Mycroft the part where the door handle should be, curious if he understands what he is trying to say with that. According to the expression in his stormy eyes he does indeed. The cake itself is a buttery caramel and butterscotch mix that lights his taste buds up. The frosting, despite being blue, tastes like white chocolate, while the white parts of the frosting taste like milk chocolate.

“That was wonderful girls,” he tells them afterwards, pushing the plate away after a second slice.

“It was quite good,” Mycroft agrees, with a slight nod, eying the cake, “Interesting combination of flavors. Have you considered become a pâtissier?”

Blushing, his eldest shakes her head, “I plan to become a veterinarian, already working on finding someone to apprentice. “

“Presents! Dinner and cake is done,” his youngest exclaims bouncing in her seat once more.

Shaking his head, he smiles at his daughter, happy to see her so excited. For a while there he had been concerned about her because she had not reacted well to the woman who birthed her behavior. Now he is moderately sure that was her jackal nature rebelling.

Reaching for the first box, he opens it up to discover a new black leather journal, he had been keeping notes on his girls their entire life, but that was not the only thing he had recorded. He also tended to record important events too, whether they were personal, professional, or family related. Now he even recorded pack related events. Charlotte got her habit of writing from him. However to avoid problems he wrote everything in his own code that he designed as a teenager. While he is sure a code breaker would figure it out quickly, well his ex never did, nor did his parents or Anderson that one time he saw one of his journals. The journal is from Charlotte.

The second box is a new set of pens and ink refills for which he can thank his middle daughter, eyes alight with mirth. It is almost a gag gift since he had mentioned how hard it is to find good pens with refills for work, and his pens kept walking off. Due to the colorful design on each pen, he doubts any of his staff would dare try to take them since they look fairly unique. Not the sort of thing normally seen at the Yard that’s for sure. They are in blue, black, red, and green.

The third box is also from Madeline, it’s a set of new ties, all sedate colors but of a better material than most his ties are made of. His favorite in the set of five is dark blue with silver pinstripes. Though the dark green tie with teal ‘v’ on the bottom looks good too. Useful, he had lost two ties to cases, and one just got old.

The fourth box is from his youngest, having her bounce excitedly in her seat with impatience while he opens it. Inside is a box set collection of Classic Doctor Who. Since she is still bouncing impatiently he opens the other present that is the same size and shape to discover the Classic Doctor Who Specials. Now all he is missing is the newest season that is not yet on DVD. One of his guilty pleasures is enjoying watching Doctor Who, House MD, and Supernatural on his days off. Thankfully his daughters like those shows too.

His last present confuses him at first because it is a small case. When he opens it he is surprised to find a variety of gift cards to his favorite places to eat. Glancing up he can see the hesitation and questioning expression in the cobra’s eyes and understands that it is his gift. He doesn’t check the amount because he is sure he would try protesting if he did. Instead he simply nods a quick thank you towards the younger man.

When he is done with opening his gifts, he suggests that they go watch an episode or two of Classical Doctor Who which the girls immediately agree to while they are cleaning up.

He is just thankful that they did not sing to him, as much as he loves his daughters, the three of them together are horrid at singing.

After they finish watching the first two episodes of season one Classic Doctor Who, Aidan bids Chare and the rest of them goodbye before leaving. Not long after that Mycroft bids everyone goodnight as well.

Walking him to the car, he comments, “Thank you for coming, I am betting on short notice knowing my daughters.”

A small smile pulls at the auburn-haired politician’s lips, “Thank you for not minding my being here.”

Waving it off he replies, “In some ways it’s sort of expected, but I do not want to rush anything.”

Stopping beside the politicians car, the slightly younger man turns to face him, a warmth in his eyes he is not used to seeing, “I know,” he pauses stepping slightly closer so there is less space between us then custom dictates, “Would I be out of line asking to kiss you for your birthday gift?” the politician inquires in a low rumble.

Swallowing once at the fire in those stormy eyes he replies, “No, it would not be out of line,” his gazes flickers between Mycroft’s lips and eyes for a moment before continuing, “Please do.”

A genuine smile, far more than the one he showed just moments earlier curves his lips as he breathes, “Good.” His long fingered hands come up to cup his jaw, his thumbs slowly rubbing up and down his neck and under jaw for a moment before he carefully tilts his head and presses their lips together.

“Hggmmm,” he groans as the shock of it runs through him, his own hands clutching at the taller man’s hips to keep him where he is.

The kiss seems to last forever and not go on nearly long enough, it is in turns sweet and chaste and sensual and erotic. Particularly when Mycroft uses his tongue to lap gently at his causing him to groan again at the intimate contact.

When they finally break apart both of them are breathing heavy, and they just stand there for a time, his hands clutching the politician’s hips while the politician is slowly stroking his face still.

“Goodnight Gregory,” the auburn-haired man murmurs as he releases his face and steps back, breaking their contact, “Pleasant dreams, until tomorrow at dinner. I will send a car for you.”

“Alright,” he says a bit breathless, not sure how the younger man can seem to gain control so quickly, “Goodnight Mycroft.”

Stepping back, he watches as he climbs in his car and drives off, staying outside long after he is gone as he tries to get his hormones back under control. After all, he really does not need his daughters asking him why he smells like he is in heat when he does not have heats. A nice long shower tonight would be perfect for taking care of his needs.


	8. Private Birthday Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> So the goal is to catch this up before Easter so for Easter I can update Seeking, please leave plenty of reviews to prompt that goal! I greatly appreciate all of them.

_Mycroft’s POV_  
He was surprised when his phone had chirped at him with a message from Charlotte Lestrade as he walked through his front door toy his house.

-Please be at our house today at seven pm to celebrate Daddy's birthday. Its Friday but he has to work.- Chare

It had taken him several moments to process as he remembers when Gregory's birthday actually is. He was also surprised by the invite, while they officially started courting last week he had not expected the girls to take to him so easily or invite him around for something that is clearly a family event. Eyes narrowing he had debated it for several minutes before nodding to himself and heading to his car in the garage. He could call for his driver but Paul's wife was pregnant and he knew the younger man was excited to get off early.

There is not enough time to select a proper gift. However they were supposed to have dinner tomorrow so he could give him something then.

Dinner with the Lestrade family was pleasant, smooth even. He was very surprised at seeing the younger cobra there. Silver eyes seriously watching him through most of the night, a curiosity and annoyed expression occasionally gleaming in those sharp eyes and yet the younger man says next to nothing to him. He found it amusing the way the middle daughter both spoke aloud with a lisp and used her hands to sign. From what he can tell she is using ASL, the same as the cobra. The two of them seem to be bouncing between the conversation being spoken aloud and their own conversation about the usage of different signs and a comparison between BSL and ASL. There is also a secondary conversation where she asks him about shielding which has him curious since it is purely done in sign language. He is curious what shielding is but is not asking tonight.

Then there had been the cake. He was given the handle piece on purpose. All three girls seemed to think it was of significance, as did Gregory according to his expression. There was warmth, a passion, a need in those eyes and for a brief moment he could not help but respond to it. Though he was going to have to discover what the importance of the door handle is.

After dinner they had watched two episodes of Classic Doctor Who and while he could probably repeat it word for word because that is how his mind works, his primary attention had been on the older man who has been actively courting him. He was taking in all of the details of his expression, the joy of having his family, his enjoyment of the old black and white show, he was not quite pressed against his side but they were close. This also caused him some food for thought because a part of him desired to be closer still, which is really illogical.

Then, as he was getting ready to leave he had paused to kiss the detective inspector, asking if he could as a birthday gift when in truth he really just wanted to kiss him and was not sure of its appropriateness. He would get him a proper gift tomorrow, or more exactly he would have Amber pick it up.

That kiss, well he was very happy that he had driven himself because after it he was more than half hard and had driven home growing progressively hard from the memory which is why he is now standing in his shower, his clothes unceremoniously left on his bedroom floor as he stripped. Using his forearm to support himself as he leans against the wall, while his other hand slowly strokes up and down his cock, his thumb occasionally brushing over the tip. In his mind’s eye however it’s not his hand stroking himself, it is that of the handsome silver haired man. It is so easy to picture, his long calloused fingers touching him. Slowly he builds up speed as he continues to imagine it until he can barely keep his hips from stuttering at the image. Soon enough he is coming all over his hand, a long moan escaping his lips.

Closing his eyes he leans his head against the wall and lets the water wash everything away. Still that is the quick response time he has ever had, of course he feels very little in the way of sexual desire or need, having spent years never even considering it.

Giving a small shake of his head, he finishes washing up before getting out of the shower and drying off. Heading to his room wearing nothing more than the towel wrapped around his waist he heads directly to his dresser in order to get a pair of pants and sleeping bottoms. Once dressed, he quickly picks up everything, shoving the dirty clothes into his suit hamper and the towel is hung up in the bathroom to dry.

Once that is done, he returns to his room grabbing his laptop and settling on his bed, he wishes to be done early tomorrow so he can make dinner on time so he starts on his paperwork for the next day. While it is an unending job, it is possible to get somewhat a head of the due dates which gives him a bit of extra time if he chooses. Traditionally he is a workaholic, choosing to spend his time working rather than anything else, but he has recently tried to tone back slightly, this way if anything does come of this courtship he will have just a little extra time to spend with them.

Just after three am he starts to feel drowsy, so he closes up his laptop, setting it aside on his night stand, clicking off the light, and going to bed. Three hours later he wakes up two minutes prior to his alarm, getting up and showering one more time before dressing for work. At five minutes to seven the mouse shows up with a small box, and he feels a slight tightening in his chest because it is Gregory’s birthday and he is still getting a present.

Accepting it before he heads to his waiting car, he slides in and nods in greeting to his assistant before he opens the box, smiling when he realizes its pieces of the birthday cake. That was a very tasty cake, he was not joking when he suggested she become a pâtissier. From his understanding, the oldest of the girls often baked and made a variety of treats and such, he should know, many had been given as gifts too. So much for his diet.

“That smells delicious,” his PA remarks as she glances up from her phone.

Grabbing a small fork out of the hidden drawer beneath his seat he cuts a small piece and hands it to her.

She makes sounds of pleasure before querying, “Who makes that? It’s not one of your normal haunts, I know all of their flavors.”

“Gregory’s daughters, primarily the eldest and youngest,” he replies as he closes the box, it will make a wonderful lunch when he is dealing with stupid people. “Any suggestions on a birthday gift for Gregory? All of the ideas I have seem a bit impersonal considering the fact we are ‘courting’,” he is a bit hesitant with the last word, not sure if that’s the proper way to use it in this situation.

She tilts her head, “What are his interests? Perhaps there is something that he may appreciate related to them.”

“Doctor Who, Supernatural, spending time with his daughters, board and card games to play with his girls, minor gardening, like reading mysteries but not ones related to murder, has an exercise area but does not use it often mostly due to work.” He replies as he sorts through details.

“Perhaps a board game they do not have? He puts that much importance on spending time with the girls, having something to do with them would be a better gift than something purely for him,” she suggests.

He thinks about it, before nodding once, while running a mental inventory of the games he knows they already have. “A copy of Doctor Who Trivia Pursuit, if you please, by tonight for dinner,” he states clearly.

She smiles, “Yes sir, I will have it waiting in the car for him.”

His work day goes rather smoothly, he manages to avoid two different international crises. Just before five thirty he uses the small bathroom attached to his office to get cleaned up before heading to his car. His other car has already been sent to pick up his date for dinner. He had made arrangements at Gregory’s favorite restaurant despite the fact it is not the type of establishment that he is used to. They should be arriving at nearly the same time.

When he gets there, his other car is just pulling in behind him, and the older man gets out before his driver can open the door.

“Hullo Mycroft,” the silver-haired man greets him holding the box that is still wrapped.

“Good evening Gregory,” he replies as the two cars pull off. They will return when he sends the ready message. “Do you need to have your vehicle retrieved?” he inquires as they walk in.

“No, Chare has the car to go to her volunteer work and pick up her sisters after they are done with their after school lessons.” The detective inspector explains as they head to a booth towards the back.

He had noticed in the past that the older man always selected spots where he could see the entire room yet only be approached from a few directions. Out of curiosity he had checked old CCTV recording and discovered this had been true since he had joined the force. It was a curious habit for the copper, but not overly surprising considering it.

“Why do you always select the most defendable position?” he inquires as they slide into the booth, arching an eyebrow at him curiously. He has a few theories but none of them seem quite right.

“I’m from a shifter family but not a shifter. That meant growing up I was the only one who did not participate in the hunting games the rest found normal. It also meant I was the only one without extra keen hearing or a sense of smell that allowed me to pick up details humans would miss. So some of my rude cousins used to like playing stalk the human, and as the only one in our generation, I was it.” his date shrugs, “I learned other ways to deal with them, made sure I gave them as few openings as possible, those traits carried over when I decided to become a cop, allowing me to had a head start on defensive training compared to most.”

He nodes once, that was not one of the answers he had expected but it makes sense, his assistant has repeatedly mentioned that the Watson pack is not like any other pack that she knows of. Then, arching his brow just a bit more, he motions to the gift while the hostess is giving them menus and inquiring after their choice of drink.

Distractedly they both order it and the older man remarks, “You really did not have to.”

Flushing lightly he nods once, “I am aware, however I still desired to get you something.” Was it the wrong choice? He wonders to himself as he watches the older man finger the wrapping.

A small smile plays at the detective inspectors lips and he realizes that his ex had not given him gifts so he did not actually expect them from his partner. He was used to them from his daughters but that was it. Oh. The custom of courting, only one partner is expected to give gifts, so the fact that he did so is the surprising part.

Slowly the older man unwraps his present, not shredding the paper like he had the night before with the girls which is also a curious thing. When he pulls the game out of the wrapper a huge smile curves his lips, one that lights up his entire face in pleasure.

“Thanks Mycroft, this is awesome! I’ll probably lose against Sofia but still.” the detective inspector softly exclaims before looking up at him and querying, “You’ll join us won’t you?”

“That may not be fair after the first few times,” he replies after a moment’s thought.

Smirking, the older man shrugs, replying, “I’ll invite Aidan too, between the two of you, us four can get amusement when two perfect memories face off.”

He blinks twice before nodding once, that would explain a lot about how he seems to act on habit for things that most take years to get, even when they are raised doing them.

Before he can comment the waitress comes ask after their orders. Since he is not sure what all he would like, he lets the older man order for the both of them. For several minutes the two of them talk about little things in life while they wait for their food. None of the conversation is serious. Once there food is there it seems to become a bit more lighthearted, something that is difficult for him since he is not sure of flirting and such. Despite that, it is a pleasant feeling, the flirting, and by the end of the dinner he is wishing that there was going to be more time. Earlier in the day he had Amber call and arrange for a cake.

“I realize it is probably not as good as the cake your rather skilled daughters made, but I had them make you a birthday cake,” he murmurs as the hostess brings out a small white chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting. “Happy birthday Gregory,” he murmurs after the hostess leaves.

The warmth in the older man’s smile makes his stomach tingle and arousal pool low in his belly. “Thank you, really thank you.” for a minute the slightly shorter man just stares at it and he wonders if he got the wrong flavor but then he looks up beaming as he quietly states, “Besides my parents, human grandparents, and daughters, no one has ever made me or ordered a cake for me.”

A light blush covers his skin as he nods once.

The two of them share the cake after the detective inspector cuts it. He was right that it is not as good as the girls. It is still enjoyable, particularly with his current company. When they are done eating dinner the two of them go for a walk before he calls for the car. It is a nice walk, filled with the same type of quiet conversation. To someone watching they are just a hair closer than is strictly necessarily but it’s nice. Once the car is there, the two of them get into it and his car drives them back to the Lestrade home, the two of them pressed close together in the car.

When they get to the house, he gets out along with the detective inspector, making sure he has his gift before pausing to stare at his face for a moment as he considers asking if it would be polite to kiss him again. Before he has worked up the nerve to ask, the detective inspector steps forward, closing the distance between and tilting his head up, softly pressing their lips together in a fairly chaste kiss when compared to the one of the night before then stepping back with a little smile on his lips.

“Goodnight Mycroft,” the older man murmurs, “Have a good week.”

“Yourself as well, Gregory.” He replies with a small smile, his mind still a bit shocked over his boldness but very happy too.


	9. Daughters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> So the goal is to catch this up before Easter so for Easter I can update Seeking, please leave plenty of reviews to prompt that goal! I greatly appreciate all of them.

_Greg’s POV_  


He lucked out for his actual birthday. It ended up being mostly a paperwork day, with him having to file papers on cases, fill out court information, and all that other papers of those natures. He helped with a few interrogations from some of the younger inspectors, and otherwise had a calm but long day. His long day got a bit longer when he arrived at home at the same time as his obviously upset daughter.

His natural instinct as a parent was to hurt whoever made his baby girl sad. However considering it was a Friday, that meant she had been with Aidan, so he decides to try talking with her instead, discovering what the problem is. Though that instinct is still there and still is an option.

“Come on Chare, let’s go in the house, you can tell me what’s wrong.” He gently suggests to his oldest daughter, leading her inside and to the kitchen while he makes hot chocolate for them, its spring and she’s a girl. Chocolate is better than tea. As he sets the cup in front of her he inquires, “Now tell me why you are so sad.”

“I think I messed things up with Aidan,” she mumbles, her voice his pitched and ready to break in tears.

The compulsion to rub the bridge of his nose is massive but he does not knowing she would see it as a sign of disappointment, instead he cup his hot chocolate and takes a sip. “How Chare?”

Slowly, in between shallow sniffles as she tries not to cry, she relays the entire night. The making dinner for him, the small gift she had picked up for him. The argument over presents, the fact that she did not have to get him anything, after all he was the one doing the courting, the fact she sometimes felt he was trying to buy her affection with gifts and that was not needed.

Even before she finished he understood what the problem was. It is probably something he should have discussed with her when the cobra first showed interest but he had not though it necessary. After all, hadn’t his sisters spoken with her about the relationship aspects of the pack life? Apparently not, so now he needed to try and help with the damage control. Perhaps it was not a good idea to raise the girls as humans more than jackals. They had never thought any of their daughters would present jackal though, so the shifter world would have been mostly closed to them. After all, in jackal packs, only full shifters and their mates count.

“Chare love, did my sisters ever explain to you the meaning of the gift giving?” he softly inquires before standing to make more hot water. Really a stiff drink sounds good right now, but shifter teens do not drink and he is trying to keep it even for her.

She shakes her head, eyes still full of unshed tears.

“Oh sweetheart,” he murmurs soothingly, “The purpose of the gift giving is to show that the person courting you can support you during pregnancy, anticipate your needs, and provide for you if you choose to be a stay at home parent. By telling him he does not need to get you gifts, you’re telling him that he is not worth your time and do not wish to be courted by him. That he is not a worthy mate.” He keeps his voice low, pitch designed to relax since he knows that this is not going to be a good.

“What!” she just about shouts and he is happy his other two daughters are not home at the moment, since they are spending the night at his sister Penny’s house.

He nods once slowly and waits for her to continue to process.

“How do I fix this Daddy? I never wanted him to think that.” She questions as she bites her lip and tries not to cry.

“Talk with him, baby girl, he’s a strong telepath so he probably realizes that and was reacting out of instinct more than thought. Tomorrow is the new moon gathering, you can talk with him after, explain why you reacted the way you did.” He suggests, moving to give her a hug.

“Can I cuddle with you?” she whispers against his shoulder as she wraps her arms around him.

“Of course baby girl, just let me get a shower first.” He replies with a small, reassuring smile as he stands.

She nods, setting to cleaning up the cups and kettle while he heads to the bathroom attached to his room. This house really was something special, perfect for him and the girls. Once he is cleaned up and wearing a pair of pants and sleeping bottoms he heads downstairs to see where his little girl wants to cuddle to discover her sitting on the sofa in the form of a jackal, her ears drooping with sadness and hers still bright.

Picking her up, he stretches out on the sofa and lays her on his stomach, gently running a hand down her back in long, smooth strokes.

He understands that she is in the form where her emotions are muted according to John. It is probably her way of trying to process and he is all for that. It’s healthier than trying to avoid the problem. This might be painful, but it’s a lot less painful than ignoring it and the situation getting worse. He will offer any form of support she needs.

Eventually the two of them drift off and he wakes up to his alarm going off on his phone. He works a short shift today, mostly just a show some of the new inspectors around. When the alarm sounds a second time his daughter jumps off of his chest carefully, landing on the floor and returning to being a human.

Sleepily she rubs her eyes before glancing at his phone, and muttering, “It’s too early to be awake on Saturday. See you after work Daddy,” she kisses his cheek before heading up to her room and going back to bed.

His day at work is quick and quiet, the new recruits thankfully faster than some of the previous ones. He is not sure how he ended up on teaching duty but was alright. It was one of the few duties he enjoyed. After his short shift he heads over to his sister Penny’s house to pick up his daughters.

When he gets there he is surprised to see that his youngest daughter is glaring daggers at his niece Andy.

“Sofia?” he questions as he comes into the house.

“Hello Daddy,” the little girl greets him, giving him a quick hug, “I’m going to go get my stuff. Ask Aunt Penny what Andy did to Madeline.”

He watches as she goes flouncing off before he turns to his sister with a raised eyebrow.

Sighing, his sister queries, “Would you like some tea?”

“No thanks, once the girls have their stuff we are going to get Chare from home then head to our pack meeting.” he replies with a smile, “What’s going on with Andy, Madeline, and Sofia?”

“Andy made a remark about Madeline being an abomination and a freak because she is gifted instead of a shifter. Sofia reacted quickly and surprisingly, going from where she was seated to the other side of the room and shifting in motion.” His sister shakes her head in shock, “I have never seen a child shift in motion or control their shift so well. Sofia pinned Andy to the floor in her jackal form, teeth at her throat and broadcasted that she better not hear something like that again because Madeline is one of us and family.”

His eyes widen as his sister talks, he had worried that non-family would act like that because shifters and gifted have not gotten along in thousands of years, but he had never thought something like that would happen within the family. Madeline is his bond-daughter but that does not matter, she is still his daughter.

“Andy apologized as soon as Sofia let go of her throat, but the damage was done, both girls withdrew to their room and barely allowed me in.” His sister continues softly.

“I’ll talk to the girls, see if there was something more to it.” he remarks as Madeline and Sofia come into the room, their backpacks on their shoulders.

~We’re ready,~ his middle daughter signs, her motions tight and full of anger.

“Alright girls, let’s go get your sister so we can get to the pack house,” he comments as he smiles at his daughters, “Later Penny.”

“I’ll have a word with Andy,” she responds with a small, sad smile, “Have a good week Madeline, Sofia.” She tries to hug the girls but both step back and refuse to accept it, barely nodding before they leave without saying a word to anyone else.

He can see his niece flinch and looks like she wants to say something but she does not.

When they get to the house, he has barely pulled into the driveway when his oldest is in the car so that they can go. He understands about her distraction and why she wants to be at the pack home. While she asks how their night went none of them really talk and he seriously hopes that Aidan is there so that at least one of his girls can be brought back into a good mood. Otherwise its going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious about what happened between Andy and Sofia check out [Jackal Sister](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3636909)


	10. Dad Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> So the goal is to catch this up before Easter so for Easter I can update Seeking, please leave plenty of reviews to prompt that goal! I greatly appreciate all of them.

_Greg’s POV_  
In the days following the new moon gathering are a bit tense and frustrating. All three of his daughters were in moods. Chare was frustrated, worried, and scared because she had not heard from Aidan in a few days and her gifts stopped so she seems certain that she has lost Aidan. He wants to reassure her but knows it’s not going to help right now. Madeline is withdrawn, she refuses to talk about what happened but has requested that they stop spending on Friday a month at Penny’s house. He knows what Penny told him, but really wants to get the girls to tell him their views on it, however neither will talk to him about it. Sofia, who is normally a happy and bubbly child, is full of anger at the mention of any of Penny’s part of the family.

The following Friday the girls are supposed to go to Laura’s house only they refuse, having Chare pick them up instead when they learn that Laura has invited Penny and her girls over for a girl’s night.

He had received a phone call from his sister shortly before the end of his shift. “Lestrade.” He answers without looking at the ID.

“Hey Greg,” his sister greets him, “it’s Laura, the girl’s didn’t come over tonight. I had texted Madeline and Chare at lunch to tell them that I was hosting a girl’s night for us Lestrade ladies and they didn’t show. I called all three, but only Chare answered and she said they had other plans.”

Sighing, he pinches the ridge of his nose, “I’ll talk to them, Sofia and Madeline are avoiding Penny and her family right now.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, “I hadn’t realized.”

“Yeah, apparently something happened between Sofia and Andy last Friday,” he responds, “I’ll try talking with them again.”

“Alright, well, maybe we can do dinner next weekend,” she suggests, “I won’t invite Penny and her family.”

He smiles despite the fact he knows his sister cannot see it and remarks, “That’d be good, I gotta go, still at work.”

“Alright Greg, take care,” she comments before hanging up.

“Something wrong?” his second inquires, left hand on her hip as she looks at him curiously.

“It’s nothing to do with our crime scene Donovan, just a family matter to take care of later,” he replies. While he thinks that she is a good sergeant, he really does not discuss his daughters with her, particularly at a crime scene. As he looks around, he sighs, really wishing that Sherlock was still around. This was the fourth such crime scene where he is certain there has been a murder but there are no bodies, just an odd residue in the blood spilled everywhere. In each case the blood tested as the victims, and because he remembers the Bomber case and its small side cases, he has the blood checked to make sure it was not frozen. In this scene there was something new, there was part of pieces of skin. “Let’s wrap this up, let the forensic team finish their job.”

The rest of his shift goes quickly, and he heads home without saying much to anyone. As soon as he gets home he calls Madeline and Sofia into the living room.

“Alright girls, now tell me why you are avoiding Penny and her family,” he softly orders as he sits down in front of them, looking between the girls.

His middle daughter is silent, simply staring at her folded hands. Years of being a copper tell him to just stay quiet and one of them will say something. Probably Sofia judging by the fact she is vibrating with pent up energy.

“Use any means you wish,” he states before sitting back and waiting.

It is not a long wait, though he can tell his daughters are having a silent conversation.

“Andy called Madeline a freak and abomination, made some other really rude comments, and none of them stopped her. According to scent they agreed with her.” his youngest snaps, “I like our pack and family there. They are asshats just because Madeline’s not a shifter.”

“Language Sofia,” he reminds her quietly, before falling quiet again, he has a feeling there is more to it.

Again there is silence for a bit before his middle daughter’s hands move slowly, hesitantly, signing rather than speaking aloud, ~I could hear them, in their minds. Only Uncle Thomas was upset by the comments. The rest either agreed or thought she was right. I don’t want to go back over there or deal with them any time soon.~

Sighing lightly, he moves over to the sofa, getting the girls to scoot apart before he settles between them and pulls them against his sides, tucking his youngest daughter against his left side and his middle daughter against his right side, his arms wrapping around the girls shoulders. Once they are comfortable against his sides, he kisses the top of each of their heads. Sofia tucks her arms around him, slipping on behind him in the space between his back and the sofa, while Madeline tucks her head against his chest and tuckers her hands beneath her chin.

“I understand, I really do, I was the only human beside Mum in a house of jackals. Later, when they actually think about their behavior they will feel bad about it, they will regret it,” he murmurs as he rests his cheek against the crown of the older girl’s head. “I love all three of you for yourselves, never doubt that.” For a long while the three of them just sit there silently, eventually he suggests, “As frustrating as it may be, do not take forgiveness off the table, they are family after all.”

“Alright Daddy,” his youngest eventually grumbles, her voice muffled in his shirt.

His middle daughter nods, not moving from where she is tucked against him. That’s how they spend most of Friday night, eventually Chare joins them. In order to make space, his littlest daughter shifts and stretches out across their laps so all three of them can pet her fur, while his oldest takes her previous spot. It’s a nice and quiet time, simply them as a family.

The breech between his daughters and his sister’s family will eventually heal, though he doubts that their relationship will ever be as close again. He can still remember the problems he had with his oldest sister when she presented as a shifter and the first thing she noticed was he smelled human, not like her or their Dad. It would be years before they would start to get along again, he would nearly die dealing with a criminal before they would be able to work out their differences. He is surprised by Penny. She had always been the most supportive shifter in his family. Perhaps he should have a talk with his sister, see what she has to say on the matter. Not tonight however, tonight is going to just be him and the girls, maybe he would order take away and the four of them would use that new Doctor Who Trivia Pursuit game that Mycroft had given him for his birthday.


	11. Day of Seeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> So the goal is to catch this up before Easter so for Easter I can update Seeking, please leave plenty of reviews to prompt that goal! I greatly appreciate all of them.

_Mycroft’s POV_  
He feels the brush against his mind, a rather questioning touch, and he recognizes it as Trace, one of his two pack assigned guards.

 _Yes?_ He mentally inquires, focusing on the wolf. He had discovered after being pulled into the pack link that he had developed a limited gift of telepathy with other pack members. It is not strong nor very long ranged, but worked for catching his guards attention and asking questions.

 _Are you attending the Day of Seeds celebration at the pack home when you are done working?_ The wolf questions, his voice a bit curious.

Eyes narrowing, he tries to recall if he has heard of that before. _What is it?_

 _It is the celebration of growth and spring, pays respects to the Earth Lord, the patron god of wolves._ The wolf answers him after a moment.

He considers this for a moment, remembering that the doctor had once said their gods were active and wonders how true this is. Perhaps he should go in order to see what type of celebration it is.

 _How is it celebrated?_ He inquires as he works on his paperwork, getting most of it done now. Some things are just far too simple to be interesting.

 _Choosing of a plant to grow during the gathering, plants always have meaning, I selected a pine last year for its meaning of hope. It is currently growing in a pot on my front porch. After selecting a plant, you put the seeds or saplings into a pot, you my select a boring pot of a decorative, one with meaning or just for show._ The wolf pauses in his answer for a moment, he gets the impression that the other man is considering the order to describe the situation in. _Somoni, a Japanese wolf bonded to Kaley Watson will be leading, she is well versed in the Earth Lord lore and traditions. Once you have your plant all ready place it somewhere it will not be lost until dusk, there is a pot luck._

He rolls his eyes at this, thinking that the pack seems to love pot lucks. It is horrible for his diet, especially the cakes, and the Lestrade daughter’s cakes in particular.

 _Ye,s we feed each other a lot, it is good for building comrade between packmates._ There is a pause then the wolf remarks, _you do not need to diet, you need to eat more stably, perhaps you should consider a mindhealing to deal with the habit of binge eating. Anyways, back to the subject at hand, the pot luck lasts all day, with people coming in through the entire day to do their seeds and eat. There are different games and groups set up, people getting to know each other, spending time together, and learning from each other. At dusk everyone gathers in the oldest ring of trees. The caller, Somoni, will lead the prayer to the Earth Lord while everyone holds their plant seeds or cutting. If the Earth Lord accepts the plants will grow rapidly and will last far longer than any regular plant._

Hmmmm, he thinks to himself, paging his assistant, he waits for the dark-haired woman to enter the room before inquiring, “What is on the schedule for the rest of today?”

She flips through her phone before answering, “You have a meeting at one with the minor official of Sweden, and the rest of the day is just paperwork.”

“After the meeting I am leaving early today,” he states, as he sorts the papers on his desk, “I have been notified of a pack gathering I would like to attend.” _I will be attending._

“Day of Seeds,” she murmurs, glancing up from her phone, “I had not thought you would be interested or I would have notified you of it.”

Curious, he queries, “Do you celebrate it?”

She nods once, “I do, before work I get my planter ready, so all I have to do is pick it up after work on my way to the clan gathering.” Looking back at her phone, she asks, “Is that all sir?”

He nods, before returning to his paperwork while she leaves. Eyes narrowing, he considers the statement about his weight. He has always had weight issues. It has always fluctuated between him being too heavy and too light. Over the years his brother has made lots of comments on it, many were cruel and snide, but towards the end, before he had left for this trip, the comments had changed. They were no longer cruel, but almost questioning instead. Could it have been possible his brother was worried about him? He is curious what mindhealing is, this is not the first time he has heard that word.

 _What is mindhealing?_ He inquires of the wolf.

 _The closest I can compare it to in the human world are therapists who work with mental disorders. The difference is, a mindhealing actually takes place fully within your head, can normally be completed within one or two times._ The wolf replies, _the mindhealer enters your mind, finds the areas that are problemed, and carefully sets to repairing them. Do not ask me exactly how, I am not a mindhealer, though I have been mindhealed in the past to deal with my depression._ He gets the impression of a shrug, as if it is not a big deal.

He can think of several very useful applications of that. At the same time he realizes the moral ethics problem that comes with that sort of gift. If it is used wrong, it could be a mind control technique, if used right it could be very useful. A part of him is curious if he could enlist a mindhealer to work for him. How much more useful would his staff be if he did not have to worry about them having a mental break?

 _Does a person have to be awake for mindhealing?_ He inquires, gathering more information.

 _No, like physical healing it is possible for the person to be asleep for it. Some mindhealers prefer that actually, because then the person’s mind does not fight against them._ He gets the impression that the wolves eyes narrow.

 _Thank you for the information,_ he replies to that before falling mentally silent and returning to his work. It is fifteen minutes to one, best eat one of those fruit bars now that he is being prompted to eat regularly. At least they taste good. It had taken a few tries to get only flavors he likes, but now he does not have as big a problem eating them as when he was first told to add at least one of them a day to his eating habits.

He has just finished his fruit bar, peach and apricot, when there is a knock at the door and his assistant slips in.

“You’re one o’clock is here,” she tells him seriously.

“I’m ready,” he responds with a small nod, his eyes sweeping the area to make sure that there is nothing out of place.

His meeting lasts for nearly two hours, but he feels that it is productive. After the meeting, he finishes up the paperwork on his desk and stands, calling for his car to take him back to his flat. At his flat he showers before dressing in one of his more conservative tan suits, having noticed that amber gold seems to be a favored color within the pack. Once he feels ready, he grabs his black umbrella before heading to his car and using it to go to the pack house. Along the way, he decides to stop at one of his favorite sandwich shops, purchasing all of the premade sandwiches they have. When he gets there, he parks in the same spot he has parked in several times before, mildly shocked to see that there are not a lot of people here yet until he remembers that school is in session so the families will probably be coming after.

Getting out of the car, he grabs the three bags of sandwiches, a slight flush on his skin. This is the first time he has brought something for the pot luck, though he has really only been to two of them, the first one where he was welcomed to the pack, and the one after. Heading into the house, he knocks twice before entering, more out of habit than because he has to. Inside the pack house he discovers that the tables are already set up with the beginning stages of food. He is not sure whether he should put the sandwiches out or not.

“Mycroft! Hello, how are you? Have you brought something for the pot luck? I’m happy you were able to make it.” Xia exclaims in Chinese when she spots him, hurrying over to where he is standing.

He smiles the politician’s smile, before nodding once and murmuring, “Hello Xia,” tilting his head he continues, “Do you know where I may put these?”

“I’m in charge of the buffet right now, so let us go put them up.” she answers happily.

Again he nods once, before motioning for her to precede him. As they are walking through the house, she chatters away at him in Chinese, telling him about every little thing, most of which he phases out, catching only the important parts. Once in the kitchen, she takes the bags, carefully sorting through and putting some of the sandwiches on a tray to carry them out to the table, while the rest are put into the bottom drawer of the fridge.

He walks with her, carrying one of the trays to set on the buffet table.

Once it is in place she turns to him querying, “Have you already got a seed ready? I picked strawberries, for all of the positive meanings that go with the plants plus the fact I can use them for cooking.”

“Hmmmmm,” he makes a humming noise, “I have not.”

She beams at him before asking, “Do you know where the gardening shed is out back?”

“I do not, however I am certain I can find it with ease,” he replies with a small smile at the excitable shifter.

“If you go out the back of the kitchen, through the door to the kitchen garden, turn left and keep on going to the edge of the house you will find Somoni helping people to select their plants and potters.” She tells him before scuttling off to collect the food from another person who has just arrived.

He follows her advice, taking his time to look around as he does so, before finding it. There is a small, dark-haired woman with an olive complexion and rich brown almond eyes that seems to be fluttering around helping the various people. When she spots him, her head tilts her head for a moment before wandering towards him.

“You are human,” she murmurs, “My greetings Mycroft, brother of the alpha-second.”

He arches an eyebrow at her, surprised at her greeting.

She smiles and shrugs slightly, “Not from here, still use some of the customs I grew up with, including using rank of known family member.” She pauses, tilting her head slightly, “I am Solomi Watson.”

“Mycroft Holmes,” he replies, not bothering to respond to the rest.

“Would you like an explanation of plants choices and pot choices?” she inquires, her expression becoming more serene.

He nods once, his attention focusing on her as she moves over to one of the tables and begins to speak, pointing at different pots and explaining their meanings. From there she moves to a different table with a variety of soils, rocks, and filler on it. After that she moves on to the biggest table currently set up, pointing out the different sections it is divided into and listing off all of the plant seeds and cuttings, and there meanings. She then shows him to a cart set up with supplies including a tray with gloves, a variety of trowels and other little tools, and aprons.

When she is done she turns to him, lifting her head slightly and querying, “Have you questions?”

“Will it matter what combination I use?” he questions after considering the information.

“If you plan to keep it potted, select a long shelf life pot, otherwise, not particularly.” She answers with a smile.

He nods once more before turning and selecting a tray before heading over to the first table. Setting it down, he grabs the apron and puts it on, before carefully looking over the pots. Some are plain, some are simplistic in there decorations, and some are highly ornate. He selects a low, flat pot of a dark red color that would match his office. Frowning he considers the next set of options.

Apparently the Japanese wolf notices that he is trying to decide something because she drifts over and queries, “A question?”

Inclining his head he asks, “Is there a way to ensure the plant reminds small?”

She tilts her head to the side, a thoughtful expression on her face, “How small? The pot you have selected is for a plant up to sixty centimeters in height and ninety-one centimeters in width.”

His mind quickly figures out exactly how big that is and smiles slightly, just a bare curve of the lips, “That will work.”

She inclines her head, “then we paint the symbols of growth slowing on the bottom of the pot.” She motions to some of the painting supplies, selecting a very fine tipped brush and waiting for him to choose the color. Silently he selects the deep red since it will match the light swirling pattern on the bottom of the pot, blending with the rest of the reds. “This is the rune to slow growth,” she carefully paints it onto the bottom of the pot, showing him each stroke and motion, along with the final results. It reminds him of a Japanese symbol.

“If I decide to give the plant to someone later, will that affect its life span?” he inquires as he accepts the pot back.

Smiling lightly she gives a small shake of her head, “Many people use these plants as a gifts, since they have longer lives , they excel for that purpose.”

“Excellent,” he responds before settling the pot on his tray and moving on to next stage. His mind pulls up images of all of the bonsai and miniature trees he has seen over the years, considering how the plant was supported. Carefully he designs the bottom and inside of the pot. Layering the gravel for drainage space, the soil to plant it in, after reading the packages of the different types to discover the one that is best for his needs, after that he coats the top with a soft set of pebbles and light moss covering except the center where he wishes to put the plant. Once the second step is done he moves onto the table of seeds and cuttings, carefully looking over the options, including the pictures that go with each. When he has decided on which of the small bushes he wants, he read the instructions on their care and growth. After he has completed the process, he puts the tray back with the apron.

Before he has a chance to say or do anything, a high pitch squeal rips through the air, “Mycroft!”

Turning, he discovers the youngest Lestrade hurrying towards him, her small body flying through the small building to his side.

“Hello Sofia, may I assume the rest of your family is nearby?” he inquires as she stops directly in front of him and beams at him.

“Daddy is speaking with Uncle John, Chare is looking for her missing cobra, and Madeline is on her way here. What type of plant did you pick?” she replies in rapid fire her eyes bright.

The last time he had spoken with Gregory he had mention that his youngest and middle daughters were a bit upset over something one of his nieces had said.

“I selected a Japanese winterberry, a type of holly,” he answers, “Do you know what type you wish to select?”

She beams at him, picking a temporary pot and setting about getting her tray, “I’m planting sunrise morning glories, I’ve spent the last three weeks thinking about what I want. Morning glories alone, before considering the color are for affection, then I picked color choices for all positive things, ‘cause I want our lives to be good.” As she is speaking she is working on her pot, her small hands diligent, “I garden sometimes, and I like to read about it.” She smiles whimsically, “Maybe I will be a landscaper when I grow up.”

A soft chuckle escapes him at the idea, he cannot picture this small girl so full of life and energy doing gardening for the rest of her life. Actually, he is moderately sure she is going to be one of those types who accomplish her goals in one field before moving on to the next. By the time she is done, he is certain she will have several degrees and successful careers.

The young girl is just about done making her pot when her sisters enter, both waving at him, but neither speaking. The elder looks likes she is concerned and distracted, the middle looks like she is in a better mood now than she has been in a while.

“We’re all meeting up at the normal table in the dining hall area to eat, wanna join us?” the little girl asks in her normal hyper way.

He inclines his head and follows the small jackal as she trots out of the area, around the house, and over to their car, setting her planter on the floor in the back seat.

Since that is a good idea he walks over to his own, settling it down inside his before he turns to find her next to him, a big smile on her face.

“How have your classes been?” he inquires as they turn towards the house and make their way to the gathering room.

Happily she chatters away, telling him about her classes and teachers. The other shifters and gifted that she has in her building and classes, how she can identify them on scent alone sometime. She babbled about hers and Madeline’s plans for this upcoming Friday, reminding him that she was currently avoiding part of her family.

“Do you plan to hold a grudge forever?” he queries as they sit down, they have only retrieved drinks, choosing to wait for the others before eating.

She shakes her head, hard, “No, just until they smell like they regret their behavior. We’re family, family is supposed to support and help each other, not be cruel.” She gives another shake of her head, “Bit not good, as Uncle John says.”

He nods understanding exactly where she is coming from.

Silence falls as the two of the sip at their drinks. He is surprised at how easily she seems to handle it. Eventually she tilts her head in queries, “Why don’t you think I am wrong for reacting as I did?”

His lips twitch in a small smile, “I might not have always gotten along with my brothers, but only I could treat them like that.”

She nods and again the two of them fall silent. The silence is short lasted because Charlotte and Gregory join them, talking about something to do with customs. He listens closer, taking in the details. A few minutes after that Madeline joins them, her fingers dancing a quick hello towards him. The five of them visit for a short while before getting up to get dinner from the buffet. One thing he is happy about is all three girls have healthy appetites unlike so many other girls he knows of.

When they are done eating, Sofia decides to join the other children of her age. Charlotte goes to join the pack teenagers. Madeline retreats to the library. He spends the time with Gregory, just talking about whatever comes to mind. Just before it starts to get dark outside the female beta calls everyone to attention, before mentioning that the gathering is beginning. At that point, many of the people within the room with draw, heading to their vehicles or where they had placed their pots to collect them.

After fetching his own pot, he meets back up with the Lestrade family, walking with them to a ring of trees in the fair side of the property.

His gaze sweeps the area, taking in all of the pack members including John who looks like he wants to be somewhere else. Stepping so she is closer to the middle, the Japanese wolf begins speaking. Though it is not in any language that he knows nor does it sound like Japanese.

 _Hold you pot in front of you, think of what you wish for this upcoming year, if your desires match your plant and are sincere, the plant will grow._ The voice is soft and in his head, forcing him to quickly match mental tone with aloud tone and coming up with Mouse.

He nods once, moving his hands to hold the pot in front of him, focusing on those he considers family, including his brothers, parents, Gregory, the three girls, and hesitantly John. He continues to listen memorizing the words to see if someone will translate them or he can work out a translation.

As she finishes speaking, the sky around them seems to light up, shades of browns and greens, colors that are never seen in the northern lights and definitely never seen in the air around where they are. Eyes narrowing, he focuses, just barely making out the form of a solid man that seems to shimmer into existence for just a few moments before vanishing. Nearly every single pot goes from having just seeds and saplings to having nearly full plants.

His own seed is now a windswept miniature Japanese winterberry tree, its trunk solid and twisty, flaring out into a variety of curvy, coiled, and curled branches, each ending in small tightly furled dark red buds. It is rather beautiful actually.

“Beautiful,” the little jackal murmurs as she glances at his plant.

~It is very nice, we both have types of holly,~ the gifted girl signs, ~protection and hope, good meanings and purposes.~

~They are good meanings, you have a nice English holly,~ he replies.

She smiles at him, a small thing but he is aware of its importance.

He smiles back.


	12. Summer Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Reviews are beautiful, lovely things, any left are greatly appreicated! 
> 
> So far this looks like it is going to on schedule.

_Mycroft’s POV  
_ He places his new plant on the end of his desk, his assistant raising an eyebrow at the small tree that has begun to bloom. The leaf buds are opening to reveal shimmering dark red leaves. The day after the gathering he is called away for a three week assignment dealing with Russians. Before he leaves he calls Gregory to tell him he will be out of town for a few weeks, so perhaps it would be best not to send any editable gifts. The older man simply chuckles and tells him to be safe.

It is so busy for those three weeks that he does not get to think on the Day of Seeds and the light show that happened. When he finally gets home he is so exhausted the first thing he does is collapse into bed. In the morning he will get in touch with Gregory to let him know he is home, he will also see about getting those lessons from the elder cobra. Since he does not want to inquire for assistance from a pissed off cobra, he needs to figure out another method inquiring. He has missed this month’s new moon meeting due to being away, so he will try to make sure he is at next month’s full moon meeting to inquire then. He does not like putting it off so long, but that is just the way life is some days.

The following morning he awakes early, considering checking to see if the delivery mouse is going to be by but doubts that she will be. Heading to his laptop, he opens it up and checks Gregory’s schedule. When he sees that the older man is going to be off today he quickly messages his assistant with a list of groceries needed. He’ll surprise the detective inspector with lunch. Less than half hour later his driver delivers the supplies he requested.

Smiling to himself, he sets to making a full meal for the older man. He considers having the slightly shorter man brought to his flat and decides instead to pay him a visit at the yard. It will not be difficult at all to take the lunch to him. if anyone tries to cause him problems, well he is not called the Iceman for nothing. Once everything is done, he carefully puts it in a travelling divided plate for a complete meal before summoning his car. Since he is not going over to the other man’s house or the pack house, he will have his driver take him. Not long before the detective inspector is scheduled to stop for lunch he arrives at the Yard. Instead of actually sticking around to speak with the older man, he delivers the meal and leaves, only a note to tell the older man who it is from.

Just a little over an hour later he gets a text, -Thank you Myc, it was delicious- GL

He smiles, looking forward to dinner the following night.

The rest of the day is spent in a whirl as he catches up on some of his paperwork that he can do from his office.

The following morning has him ready to go on time, startled when there is not one, but two mice on his stoop. Arching an eyebrow, he has the two women step into the flat and set them on the table by his door, accepts the collection of small gifts and debates about whether he wishes to open them all now or wait. Just before the two mice leaves, his normal delivery girl hands him a small box with a little note attached to it.

-Welcome Home, Dinner?- the note reads in the detective inspectors script.

Inside the small box he discovers some of the girl’s cake, and a second note written on the top of the inside of the box, -Enjoy trying some new flavors- Chare

He sends a quick message to Gregory accepting the offer of dinner, and stating he will send a car after work. Their dinner goes smoothly, he listens to the older man tell him about the last three weeks and his girls. While he says nothing about his job, he does state he is pleased with how his last situation ended. When he gets home that night he enjoys taking his time to open up the pile of boxes, smiling at the little things he finds in them. His biggest chuckle comes from the four boxes with fruit bars in them. A note in each listing there flavors and mentioning the girls have been playing with making their own varieties. He makes a mental note to tell them which ones he likes and such.

They finish out the month of May and go through most of June with the same patterns whenever they can. He gets little presents in the morning. On Thursdays they have their dinners. He actually talks with the elder cobra on the night of the full moon, the deadly man agree to give him lessons when he is available. The doctor seems to have a hard evening leaving far earlier than normal. He did find the acceptance of the baby into the pack to be interesting.

The most interesting night was the night of the Dusk Awakening. It was another celebration to the shifter gods, this time to the Dusk Daughter and Dawn Son. According his memory it was the Dusk Daughter that made the deal with his brother. During the light show, this time in vibrant purples, blues, reds, and oranges his mind was on the question he could not get pasted. How had a so-called goddess who dislikes humans chosen to use a human to do her dirty work?

One minute he was in the circle of trees with everyone else, the next he was in the middle of what seems to be a dark blue-black marble hall with a throne gleaming on the dais.

 _“Very few humans catch Our attention, and yet all three of you have done so. Your youngest brother has the attention of the Eldest, your middle brother caught my attention, and you caught my attention,”_ the voice echoes through his ears and mind, driving him to his knees and making him feel like there is blood running out of his openings. “ _Why him? Simple enough, he is a member of a wolf pack who prayed for a way to deal with the human causing problems. I made him a deal, he accepted. The human that actually caused the problems did not kill himself on that roof, however a deal is a deal, the human who’s soul has been marked will be dead before your brother returns home.”_

Before he can say anything he finds himself back in the middle of the pack within the trees. Beside him the older cobra appears, mentally stating, _She’s annoying piece of work yes? However it is always best to be respectful to the one who judges at death. Do not feel the need to worship her, she doesn’t even answer her jackal most the time. Of course most jackals piss her off by distorting traditions._

He blinks, tilting his head and staring at the taller man for a moment. This was definitely going to be food for thought. Not right now however, there are too many people who can hear thoughts here. There is not actually a lot of time left in the meeting after the Dusk Calling, as he hears one of the women call it.

That night at home, he considers what he has learned in the four months since joining the pack, compiling information and sorting through information. There is a lot of new things, including his brief and sudden lesson in shifter traditions when the cobra merely inserted it into his mind during a day off, leaving him with a splitting migraine but an understanding of nearly every tradition, well the oldest of traditions both cobra and wolf. Now he was absorbing that information and processing it. Adding it to what he has absorbed and learned already, processing it in comparison to the customs and traditions he knows from growing up and his time as a politician.


	13. Verbal Exchanges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Reviews are beautiful, lovely things, any left are greatly appreicated! 
> 
> So far this looks like it is going to on schedule.

_Greg’s POV  
_ By the middle of June a new pattern has begun with his daughters. Madeline and Sofia still refuse to have anything to do with Penny and her family. On the Fridays they used to go over to her house, they come home early and spend the time doing homework or working on something quiet at home. Both girls have taken to experimenting with food, using recipes from old family cook books, online, people they go to school with, members of the pack, and Chare’s creative notes. Most of that food has been given to the pack home for those that are still staying there.

So he is very surprised when there is a knock at his door at eight pm, just after he had finished eating dinner with his girls. Frowning, he gets up and heads to the door, he is shocked when he sees that it is his sister Penny standing there, a pie in her hands.

“I made some pies and thought I would bring this over,” she remarks as a greeting, stepping in before he has a chance to invite her in or ask her to leave.

Before either has a chance to say something his youngest enters the hall, glaring for all she is worth. “Go away!” she snarls at his sister before returning to the kitchen to finish helping his middle daughter with clean up.

Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Come in the living room, we need to have a bit of a chat,” he remarks.

“She should go away,” his youngest snaps from the door before they have a chance to move, “I don’t want her stinking up the house.” She growls one more time before flouncing up the stairs and he hears her bedroom door slam.

A moment later his middle daughter immerges from the kitchen and dining area, her small hands flutter for a moment, ~I’ll be in my room, I will be doing the readings Eric as assigned~ before she turns and heads upstairs ignoring his sister.

Blinking at him, his sister seems to be at a loss.

“Come on, we’ll go in the kitchen instead, cuppa?” he directs his younger sister, turning and going into the kitchen rather than the living room.

She follows him, a combination of a frown and a scowl on her face. “Why are they acting like that?”

“Because the last time you had them at your house, Madeline was treated in the same manner I used to be by our cousins growing up and you did nothing to stop it.” he replies as he puts a kettle on.

“Bullshit! I would not allow that to happen.” She snaps, a blush covering her skin.

“Your blush says otherwise Penny,” he states as he sets the cup up.

“They’re just children, they don’t know what they are talking about!” she exclaims.

He says nothing while he waits for the kettle to whistle. How to explain that his middle daughter is a strong telepath, she can broadcast as much as she hears, that when she is upset, she might be able to block broad casting most the time, but when she is upset she still shares when touching. He had gotten to view the entire scene through her eyes, heard every word spoken and thought, knew his daughter was very self –conscious she was not his by birth. How was he going to explain to a jackal that has always belonged the feeling of not belonging? The desire to be wanted and to know that they are wanted for themselves? He was trying to figure out how to remind his sister of their childhood.

Once the water is heated he makes their teas, handing one to his sister while he carries his to the dining room and sits down at the table.

“Do you understand about the gifts some shifters have?” he inquires after a bit, trying to come up with a way to explain this still. He loves his sister, but he loves his daughters, all three of them, more.

“Of course, they are initiate talents that the person has, the most common gifts are healing, telepathy, empathy, the alpha gift, and mindhealing.” She replies, confusion back in her expression.

“Right, about what age do those gifts manifest?” he queries.

“Twelve to fifteen, they can occur in shifters and shifter-children.” She responds.

He nods, wondering if she sees where he is going with this yet, “How’s a child’s control at that point?”

“Not good, apparently empaths and telepaths have it the worse because they are wide open to emotion and thoughts,” she answers, pausing she tilts her head to the side, “Andy has a very minor empathy gift and it gives her migraines regularly.”

“Get her trained, all three of my girls are receiving training from the pack.” He remarks, “What is a Shifter?”

Her confusion is worse than ever as she replies, “A person able to turn into an animal based on bloodline. I turn into a jackal, as will my children.”

He nods, “What is a shifter-child?”

“A person born of a shifter who cannot shift, they sometimes have some of the other gifts though like empathy and telepathy.” She answers, her eyes narrowing.

He can tell she is beginning to see where this is going, “What is a Gifted?”

“What does this have to do with the girls?” she demands rather than answering.

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” he softly asks giving a sad shake of his head, “When we were children what would you tell our cousins when they started in on me before I started staying with our human grandparents?”

“That you were one of us, your blood was our blood, you should be treated no differently than a shifter.” She replies, her eyes widening slightly, “It’s not the same at all!”

“Penny, for a smart woman your being very stupid right now.” He remarks as he finishes his tea, getting up to make another. “It is exactly the same, Madeline is my daughter, as such she is family.”

“I never said she wasn’t!” the younger woman exclaims angrily.

“Didn’t you?” he questions softly, “By allowing Andy to call Madeline a freak, abomination, and any other derogatory term that she used, you are saying that she is right. That Madeline is not family and that it is okay to treat her like garbage.”

His sister is speechless, staring at him with anger in her eyes.

“That’s exactly what you did. You also thought it. To a telepath who is also an empath being pushed to the edge, well the effects are I now have a thirteen year old daughter who feels that her family does not want her. It could take years to undo the damage your daughter, son, and you did in the space of one night.” He informs her, his voice low and serious.

She stares at him, her mouth working up and down as she works through what he has stated. He can see she wants to deny it, but she cannot, not without lying outright and he knows she does not like to lie.

“My daughters want you to leave because you thought that Madeline is not family, that she is an abomination. Our faith says that all are created by the Shadow Mistress or one of her children the Old Gods. That all should be treated with the manners.” He stops for a moment, taking a deep breath, he is trying not to get angry, “If they are willing to speak with you, alright, but I am not going to force them to, particularly not when you do not seem to understand what it is that you have done wrong.”

Still she stares at him as he gets up and makes a second cup for her, giving her time to process.

“You should be happy about one thing,” he remarks lightly.

“What?” she queries, her confusion overriding her anger.

“Eric hasn’t gotten involved, for you that’s a good thing, because he is a bit scary when he is,” he replies as he hands her the tea and sits back down, “By all rights he could too, particularly since Madeline is his apprentice.”

“What?” she repeats, “I don’t understand what her instructor has to do with this.”

A dry chuckle escapes him, “He’s a Tracker, sworn to three of the Old Gods, to be exact the Mistress of Shadows, Dusk Daughter, and Dawn Son. Your behavior edges close to breaking the neutrality that is supposed to exist between shifters and gifted. He is also very family oriented and holds to the old traditions regarding family.” He explains with a shrug.

“Oh,” she mumbles, “Can I just sit here for a bit?”

He shrugs, “Go ahead,” he replies, “I’ll be back in a bit, need to shower. If you need something, you know where it is.”

With that he leaves his younger sister in the dining room, nursing a probably cold cup of tea while he heads upstairs. He stops to tell the girls their aunt is still in the dining room and that he is getting a shower, not surprised to see that both of them are in Madeline’s room, Madeline seated at her small desk with books laid out and stacked on top of each other as she researches, Sofia stretched out on her bed with her homework before her. In his room he collects up his stuff before heading in the bathroom, making sure to lock the door to the side to Sofia’s room.

When he gets out of the shower and dresses he discovers his sister hovering right in front of his middle daughter’s bedroom door, though it has been shut.

“Well?” he queries with a hand on his hip, he knows his girls, they can be very stubborn when they feel like they are in the right.

“They will not speak with me, I….” her voice trails off, she is upset, with tones of sadness and frustration in her voice.

He nods to the stairs, “Go wait in the living room, I’ll see if they will have a word with you.” 

She looks like she is going to argue for a minute before finally nodding and heading down the stairs with an air of sadness to her movement.

“Open the door girls,” he calls out to them after knocking twice. A minute later the door opens though neither of his daughters is near it. His middle girl must be playing with the air again since as far as he knows telekinesis is not one of her talents. “Your aunt would like to speak with you. I have a feeling that she wishes to apologize.”

His middle daughter stares at him, a frown on her face, her dark eyes seem to be thoughtful.

His younger daughter on the other hand sighs dramatically, before demanding, “Why should we?”

“Prior to that day, has she ever given you reason to think that of her?” he gently questions.

Both girls give him thoughtful looks, his middle daughter’s dark eyes looking at him speculatively while his younger daughter’s dark eyes are full of annoyance.

~If you insist,~ his middle girl eventually responds, getting to her feet, “You’re right, of course,” she mutters aloud.

Groaning dramatically his younger daughter hops up as well, standing next to her sister and grumbling under her breath. There are times he wishes he had a jackals hearing but sure that it is probably a good thing he cannot hear her right now.

Quietly the three of them walk downstairs, his middle daughter drawing within herself for a moment before her hands flutter before her, though not in sign language. He watches in pleasure as a silvery energy seems to swirl around her hands and arms for a moment. it is rare for her to let him see the energy that she wields, mostly because he thinks she is certain it would bother him or some such thing. Truthfully though, it makes him proud. According to the older cobra of their pack, using energy like that is rare, particularly since she can access all of the elements.

“Ready,” she states clearly, using a hand to push her black hair away from her face.

“Together,” his youngest states, nodding her platinum head once.

He smiles at his girls encouragingly, following them in. The girls take the sofa, sitting side by side but positioning themselves so that their aunt cannot join them on the sofa. He settles into one of the chairs and merely watches, he will mediate as needed but otherwise plans to stay out of it. He has already had his chat with his sister. Now it is their turn.

“Madeline, I…” his sister starts but falters when she meets the rather serious expressions on the two girls.

His youngest might only be nine but she can glare with the best of them.

For a long time there is silence as the girls wait, they do not plan on making this easy on his sister.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually blurts as she looks at his black-haired daughter, “I had not realized you were a developing telepath.” Turning her attention to his youngest, she continues speaking, “Nor had I ever heard of a child having access to their jackal traits or being able to shift like that.”

“It’s because jackals do not bring shifters into the pack until they present.” The little girl replies perkily.

“Oh,” his sister murmurs, eyes widening, giving a small shake of her head she starts talking again, “Anyways, I wanted you to know that you’re family, Greg explained why you are avoiding my house, and I get it, I do, it just took me a bit.” His sister’s voice is earnest as she speaks.

Neither girl comments, he can feel that they are waiting, using the same type of patience that he had when originally discovering what the problem was.

Eventually his sister seems to fold under their nearly unblinking stare, “I grew up in a jackal household, humans and Gifted were not well thought of, mum was respected because she was mum, but those outside of our immediate family were not as accepting of mum, same with Greg because he was a jackal-child and not a jackal. Since bonding I have not really been around a lot of humans or shifter-children, and gifted are avoided at all costs. I hadn’t even equated you with a gifted, you’re Madeline, Greg’s non-shifting daughter. So I am sorry, I never meant to make you feel like your not part of the family.”

There is a long pause before his middle daughter finally nods slowly, “Apology accepted,” she states a bit stiffly before standing and leaving the room.

His youngest tilts her head, turning slightly to watch her sister leave the room, before turning back to his sister with a frown. “You smell truthful, best talk to Andy, or I’ll knock her into the floor again.” With that little girl is up and bounding out of the room,

“That went smoother than expected,” he mutters as he glances towards the door. He knows the girls have retreated back to their rooms to consider what has been said, and he will not push them, understanding why they still might not wish to go over there yet.

Nodding, his younger sister gets to her feet, “That did, I remember how stubborn we could be, some reason I doubt they are less stubborn, they have the Lestrade hard-headiness. Thank you for letting me talk to them, for talking with me, and getting them to talk with me.” She remarks with a small smile, “Its getting late so I ought to be going. Have a good night Greg,” she finishes up.

Smiling, he replies, “Good night Penny, say hello to Thomas for me.”

She nods, heading to the door, though she pauses not to far from it, “I guess I understand what he was trying to tell me for the last week, I thought he was wrong, but apparently he was right about what was wrong. I think I will talk with him next, get his impressions since he seems to have caught on faster.” Nodding once more, she turns and leaves.

Sighing he fetches a beer from the fridge, downing it in just a few drinks before deciding to head to bed. Chare is with Aidan so she may or may not be home tonight. Heading upstairs, he stops by each girls room, unsurprised to discover the girls curled up together on Madeline’s bed, his middle daughter reading to his younger, using a small ball of cold flames for light instead of the light to do so.

“Sleep well girls, don’t be up too late,” he rarely feels the need to force a bed time on the three of them, his oldest nearly being an adult his other two having the common sense to make sure they get enough rest. Besides, tomorrow is Saturday, they can sleep in if they want. He plans to unless his phone goes off from work.

“Good night Daddy,” Madeline bids him softly.

“Come hug us!” Sofia sleepily orders.

Chuckling, he slips into the room, hugging the both of them and kissing them on the top of their foreheads before he heads to bed.


	14. Concerns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during chapter 85 of Seeking
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/), added pictures of the Lestrade house after having several ask me questions about it since it was first mentioned. 
> 
> Reviews are beautiful, lovely things, any left are greatly appreciated! 
> 
> So far this looks like it is going to on schedule.
> 
> Thank you to NoOrdinarySouthernGirl for all of her help on everything

_Greg’s POV_  
They were approaching the three month marker when he decides that he wants to talk to Mycroft about how the relationship is going. For the most part he is sure things are fine, he just is a bit worried that maybe he is missed some cue or that perhaps he misread the original situation an attraction. It confuses him how hot and passionate they can end up pinning each other against whatever piece of furniture is nearby when they are kissing but almost immediately afterwards it’s like there is a subtle wall dropping down between them. Besides the heavy breathing, Mycroft rarely seem affected at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that the younger man had pressed him into his kitchen counter once and he had felt his arousal pressing against his lower stomach from where the taller man was pressed against him, he would wonder if he was doing something wrong. Things should work themselves out, right?

It is a few days after he starts thinking about that when they have their next dinner together. Since it is a Thursday, the younger man had declared they should go to one of the place he used to treat them to in order to discuss Sherlock. While he is a bit edgy about the idea, particularly since they had not been back to any of those places since his death, he is still willing to try. Of course, it means he is not paying tonight because there is no way he could afford any of the places that his auburn-haired partner would select for them.

He has just got off work when the sleek black car pulls up to the curb beside him, a quick glance at the front shows it to be Mycroft’s vehicle and he slides in without question, mildly surprised to see the auburn-haired man seated within it already. Even more surprising he is beside him, rather than his normal spot across from him.

“Hullo Mycroft,” he greets the younger man, a slight hitch in his voice that he notices and hopes the politician does not.

According to the very slight narrowing of his eyes, the politician does, but says nothing about it, instead he replies softly, “Good evening Gregory.”

“Have a productive day?” he queries, remembering that it is easier to ask that than to ask how it went since some of the worst days in his view are marvelous according to the politician.

“It was, surprisingly so,” the younger man replies, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, “How was your day?”

He smiles tiredly, “It was good, a bit long, but good. Chare’s got the car. She has her apprentice lessons to attend before getting her sisters. Sofia is planning on enrolling in some cooking lessons over the rest of the summer if she can get the teacher to let her in.”

One auburn eyebrow arches questioningly.

“Supposed to be twelve to attend, she’s nine, but she is tall for a nine year old and has been cooking for three years already.” He answers the unspoken question, smiling when he considers how intelligent his youngest is.

“Intriguing,” the younger man murmurs, looking at him thoughtfully, “Has she any other goals for the summer?”

“Learn a language, and she claims BSL and ASL do not count ‘cause she picked those up during the school year.” He chuckles as he recalls her pestering Aidan the last time he was over, “Two weeks before school starts she has talked them into allowing her to test on all the material for the year they have skipped her to, if she passes, then she can skip two years instead of one. If she is successful, then she would have skipped three years in two.”

“That is impressive, not many her age can do that, truthfully, besides myself and my brothers I cannot think of anyone I know who has skipped more than one grade,” the politician responds after a bit. Tilting his head slightly, the auburn-haired man queries, “Has she always been like this?”

He gives a small shrug as he replies, “Sort of, when she was still around all of the girls took as many after school classes and groups as they could to not be home when I was not home. Despite that, Sofia excelled at all of it, calling a lot of it boring,” he pauses for a moment, thinking about it, “When we got the house, and she was gone, all of the girls dropped a lot of their extra activities, keeping only their favorites, and in Chare and Madeline’s cases, picking up apprenticeships. That means that Sofia now has a lot of extra time and is getting bored so she goes through her sisters books, reading and researching until she understands. Side effect of that is she is a head of the class, well actually, her entire grade.” Again he pauses, this time to chuckles, “I think she hopes she develops some sort of gift so she can work on training that instead, but both John and Eric have said her primary gift is shifting, she does not have any of the extra talents that could get her an apprenticeship, beside’s shifters will not start apprentice training until the candidate is twelve.”

Just as he finishes speaking, they pull up to a rather fine restaurant, he recognizes it as the one they had their first dinner at years before when the politician had demanded his attention. There had been several dinners here after that, though it has been nearly two years since the last time they ate here together.

Smiling, he gets out of the car, walking beside the politician into a place he would never even consider going on his own. One of his few worries about their relationship is the inequality of their finical, well besides the worry he is doing something wrong. Thinking of that, he realizes he did not get the ‘it is alright and kiss me already’ look on the car ride. Or did he miss it? Shit.

Dinner goes rather smoothly, it is almost like falling into old habits, including the distance between them. By the end of dinner he is not sure what is going on, there is none of the familiarity that had developed between them in the last three months. He considers asking but really does not want to do so while they are in the middle of a restaurant, something about that seems wrong. So he resolves to ask in the car, only he never gets to it. The both of them sit in it fidgety and silent, Mycroft back in his normal spot, back ramrod straight as he stares out the window.

When they pull up to his house, the younger man nods once, a dismissal, he frowns before querying, “Care for something to drink?” a lot of nights after dinner they would share a drink in front of the fire place in his living room, the girls were always absent for this though, as if trying to give them private time.

“I would not wish to intrude,” the politician replies a bit stiffly.

Snorting, he responds, “Since when would you be intruding? Beside’s I am sure the girls would love to say hi.”

He is almost certain the other man is going to argue when he suddenly lets out a hiss of air and nods before getting out of the car and saying something to his driver in the process.

He almost wishes he knew what was said.

In the house he heads to the kitchen without pausing to take off his coat, what he really wants is a beer and his bed, but since Mycroft consented to coming in he will get out the brandy instead. Silently the two men share a drink, he is considering calling one of his daughters via telepathy, but is not sure if the other man would hear him. He is saved from having to do so when Sofia comes trotting down the spiral stairs.

Just before she reaches the bottom she stops and stares at both of them before tilting her head a bit and calling up the stairs, “Chare, as the one of us who has heats, explain to Daddy how they work, they both smell like heat and are giving each other glances when they think it will not be noticed but aren’t doing anything about it!”

“I’m not telling our Dad how to get it on!” he hears his oldest reply, “He’s a big boy, I am sure they can figure it out!”

He can feel his face heating up and avidly looks anywhere but at his companion.

“Hiya Daddy, Mycroft,” his youngest states as she gets herself a cup of orange juice. Turning to the politician she queries, “Are you coming on the twenty third for dinner?”

The politician stares at her questioningly. He can just about hear his mind swirling as he tries to determine why he would be over on a Monday when the normal visits are either Wednesday or Thursday. “If you wish,” the auburn-haired man responds eventually.

Beaming she replies, “Great! Make sure you put it in your calendar.” After rinsing her glass and putting it on the counter she remarks, “You two really need to deal with that heat, you both smell funny,” before heading up the stairs, calling out a quick, “Have a good night, don’t forget to close the door!” on her way up them.

Before either of them can respond she is gone, back up the steps and he hears the click of her door in the silence of the house. It seems to be even more silent than ever, steeling himself for a negative reaction he looks over at the politician to see that he is blushing, head down slightly, eyes shut. Maybe he is worrying about nothing. Sofia said they both smelled like heat. That means there has to be attraction.

Sliding closer to the politician he hesitantly lays one calloused hand against the smooth skin, “Mycroft?” he murmurs questioningly, no sure what is going to happen but wanting something to happen.

Taking a stuttered breath, the taller man tilts his head slightly, kissing the palm of his hand.

“What’s happening here?” his voice is a very low rumble, even with his daughters bedrooms doors shut they still hear him sometimes.

“From your behavior and such I deduced you were trying to find a way to end things but that is not correct is it,” the younger man answers, his tone making the question a statement.

Smiling gently, he gives a small shake of his head, “No, that is not correct. I thought I missed a sign or something about how you want this relationship to go and was trying to think of how to ask.”

“Oh,” the auburn-haired man mutters head lifting slightly away from his hand as he stares at him.

Leaning forward slightly, he presses their foreheads together but does not kiss him yet, voice low he states, “I love you, I just don’t want to be too pushy or on the flip side not pushy enough, but there are times you’re really hard to read, making it difficult to tell what I should do.”

He can see the politician’s eyes, dilating in shock, with a touch of something else in them too, “What?”

Smiling slightly he repeats himself, trying to not overwhelm the taller man.

“That’s what I thought you said,” the politician mutters and he is not sure what the undertone to his voice is.

Staying, quiet, he just holds still for the moment, waiting to see what Mycroft’s reaction will be. He is about to start worrying over the silence when the politician cups his face and kisses him, long and deep, leaving both of them nearly out off air despite the heavy breaths both are pulling in.

“I don’t know what I feel,” comes the almost un-hearable confession that he would have missed if they were not pressed so close together.

Smiling at the older man he remarks, “That’s alright, it’s why we’re doing this, though I do ask if you ever want to question something that you speak up rather than withdraw behind your rather impressive wall.”

Chuckling shallowly, the politician responds, “That is a two way street, I think.”

“It is,” he murmurs right before returning to kissing him. It is a very long while before the younger man calls for his ride or they move from that spot as both put their energy into those kisses.


	15. Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Hey look, another chapter closer to being done with this story, I actually known when the end is coming for this one, and if I can keep up the writing spree I am on it should be posted within the next 48 hours.

_Mycroft’s POV_  
By the time he had finally left the Lestrade home he was hard as a rock and barely able to keep a straight face. Though as he was riding in the car on the way home he realized that was probably what was confusing the detective inspector about their relationship. He was not supposed to keep a straight face after being kissed like that. Groaning, he rubs a hand across his face, happy that the divider is up. What is he going to do? This was not the first time he had left the house not wanting to. While he does not mind occasionally taking things in hand, in the last few weeks he has taken himself in hand far more than he has for the majority of his adult life.

How was he going to relay that need to Gregory?

Groaning, he sets his head back against the head rest, and just thinks about it. His mind whirling a thousand miles an hour but always coming back to the one thought of he just needs to express himself clearer to the detective inspector. He has to let the older man know he would be willing to try other things besides kissing, that he wants to try other things besides kissing. It is true in the past he has not found attraction or physical desire worth pursuing, but in the past he did not have someone who actually wanted him for him and not for his position to do so with!

What was he going to do?

He would ask John for advice, since the alpha of the pack had managed to build a relationship with his people hating brother, he must have some idea as to how to make things work out. It was not until they pulled up to the cerb in front of Baker Street that he realized that he had told his driver to take him there. For a moment he considers leaving without getting out of the car but he feels a slight brush against his mind, a welcoming and decides he better do this now.

Using his key that he acquired long before the doctor ever lived here, he lets himself in and heads upstairs to the flat. He is unsurprised at discovering a hot and fresh mug of tea, blended just the way he prefers .

“Hello Mycroft,” the slightly younger wolf greets him, “It has been a while since we have spoke outside of a pack meeting.” the wolf continues, a small smile curving his lips.

The last time they had spoken outside of a pack meeting was the day he had woken up to a new life of sorts within the shifter world. however they visited with each other for a few minutes at every pack meeting and he was slowly coming to like the doctor as a person, not just respect him for the power that he obviously wields without being dramatic about it. He had been surprised at the fact they had some things in common besides his brother.

“Good evening John,” it had taken him a while to comprehend why he preferred to be called by his first name rather than one of his titles, after all, the vast majority in any position of authority whether it was a member of the government, a peer of the realm, a doctor, or military personal all liked to be respected for their rank, so here was a man who fell into several of those categories and confused him by not wanting his rank recognized. Then , as he got to know him, he realized it was for very similar reasons to why he always downplayed his role in the government, making it ever so simple for him to understand.

“So, both you and Greg have been fretting a lot lately on the emotional side of things, enough that I noticed with my empathy anyways, so how can I help?” the doctor remarks as he settles into his seat.

Flushing slightly he lifts the tea and takes a sip, smiling in pleasure at it. No stalling, he orders himself before clearing his throat and replying, “I am in need of advice on how to express my willingness to do more than kissing.” He can feel his skin heating up further as he speaks.

For a long minute the doctor just stares at him before mutter, “Holmes’,” as if that says everything at once in a single word.

Bristling he considers standing and leaving, that was not why he was here after all, but something keeps him from moving, a little voice in the back of his head, the part of his instincts that have been very useful for the vast majority of his life when coupled with his ability to read people tells him to hold on.

“Since I know telling you to just tell him is not going to work, I suggest you show him. You read people better than anyone else I know who is not a telepath, put that to work for you.” the younger man tells him, tilting his head a bit he suggests, “If the only thing the two of you is currently doing is kissing, maybe allow your hands to wander, not very hard, just a little bit so that he can see you wouldn’t mind him doing the same. I am betting he is taking his cues on what to do basted on your reactions, but he doesn’t have telepathy or empathy like I do, so it is probably harder for him to get those cues than it was between myself and Sherlock.”

He absorbs the information silently, carefully considering exactly how to do so. Is there a wrong way to touch him during one of those kissing sessions? A place that is not allowed or a way that would repulse the detective inspector? Normally the only touching they do is their bodies pressed close together, hands either carefully on hips, or cupping the others face. Sometimes one of them will touch the other’s shoulders or upper back, but not often, and usually only to pull the other close. He is trying to find the words to express himself when the doctor starts speaking again.

“Don’t just grab his junk through his pants and trousers, ‘cause that’s something you build up to, but maybe stroke his back and sides, or run your thumb down the side of his neck and across his collarbone. Something light, explorative, a little affectionate even. Even just barely let the tips of your fingers touch his arse if you’re holding his hips.”

He nods as he absorbs the words, his mind quickly coming up with scenes as to what he could do, though he is stumped on how to know when to do them.

“How do I know when to attempt this ‘stroking’?”

It takes a moment for the doctor to come up with an answer. He gets the impression that the wolf is trying to find the right words to use. “Have you ever been kissing him and just wanted to know what would happen if you moved your hands even a little?”

Swallowing, he nods, there have been lots of times he felt like that, most the time he would just press a bit closer, hoping that was the right reaction.

“That’s when you do it, let your instincts guide you instead of your brain.” The doctor states with a small wave of his hand, like he cannot think of anything more to say. “More tea?”

“Please,” he responds absently. Handing over his empty cup, his mind starts to quickly process the data, applying it to things he already knows and re-examining every encounter he has had with the detective inspector. What he discovers is he had failed to notice those signs from the older man. Apparently the detective inspector had already indicated a willingness to do more at least three times and he had failed to respond. No wonder they were having difficulties, he was reading the situation wrong, because each of those times he had thought the older man was getting bored or restless.

He would definitely have to adjust his behavior, try to get on the same page as the older man so he would stop missing and sending the wrong signals. For someone used to always knowing and understanding everything going on, this is definitely an annoying situation to be in.

For a while longer he stays, politely talking with the wolf over the second cup of tea before bidding him a good night and calling for his car. Tomorrow he will have Amber check in on whether Sofia got into her cooking class, and if she had not, make sure that she is allowed in. As for tonight, well, he is going home to enjoy a few fantasies about the detective inspector and maybe give himself some release.


	16. Sofia's Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> So there is even more thanks to NoOrdinarysouthernGirl for the help picking cooks and giving me some other suggestions to use later too, along with her normal help of being a great sounding board!

_Mycroft’s POV_  
Three days later he is tired and frustrated but makes sure that he can leave the office by half six in order to make it to the Lestrade house for Sofia’s birthday. That had required him dealing with three idiots in a slightly faster pace than he preferred, almost ordering them into doing what he wants, rather than his normal method of subtly making them think that their plans were their own. His assistant had made sure the jackal pup was in the cooking class by digging up some dirt on the woman teaching it. At that point she had become more than willing to allow the nine year old in, after all, it was not her cooking that was the problem. His assistant had also picked up the cook books he had ordered on Saturday from a well known French pastry chef who he had assisted earlier in his career, along with an Indian-American chef with unique flavor ideas.

When he had gotten off work he had debated about a driver or taking himself, in the end he had decided on the driver because he was not sure there was going to be room to park his car. Upon pulling up to the front of the house, he is happy he made that choice, particularly when he notices that there is at least four vehicles at the residence. Clearing his face of most emotion, he slides out of the car, taking the small box with the set of cook books with him. Tucked between the first and second book is her letter of acceptance for the class.

He had long since stopped knocking on the door, but was considering doing just that when the eldest of the daughters opened it.

“Hullo Mycroft,” she greets him happily, her normally dark-brown hair is streaked with a variety of vibrant colors, “Come in, come in, dinners just about ready to be served, though we are eating on paper plates since there is so many here.”

“Good afternoon, Charlotte,” he replies as he steps in the door. Glancing around, he spots no less than fifteen children and eleven adults. While he recognizes some of the children as members of the pack, there were others that he did not know, as for the adults, well he did not know any of them off the top of his head. However the familial resemblance between his partner and most of them, particularly the three females all standing close together, makes him think it is the sisters he has heard about. Tilting his head to the side, his mind brings up their files, which includes names and images for each.

“There is a table set up in the living room for her presents if you want to put the box in there,” the teenager suggests with a smile as one of the other kids comes over to ask her something.

He inclines his head politely before slipping into the almost over packed living room. It is easy to spot the table in question and he quickly walks over to set it down.

“Mycroft! You made it!” he hears the youngest of the girls happily exclaim.

Turning, he finds the slender girl come flying across the room to give him a hug. She does that quite often, the first few times it had confused him, and he had stiffened up but he was beginning to adjust to it, even look forward to those little hugs. In some ways it reminds him of Aragorn and Sherlock as children, though more Aragorn than Sherlock since he had been separated from his middle brother.

“I’m happy you came! Come eat with me and Daddy,” she excitedly states as she tugs on his arm, pulling him towards the almost over crowed kitchen, most of the people have gathered in there. In the kitchen the cooking island is covered in a variety of easy grab foods and treats, not the healthiest meal but still good, there is also a large collection of pizzas laid out on one of the counters. Seated on the spiral stairs to upstairs is the older cobra, his body perfectly still as his black eyes observe everything.

 _Good evening Mycroft,_ the cobra remarks in his head. _It is good to see another intelligent person here. Jackals can be annoying creatures._ The black-eyed cobra’s glance flicks at the three women he is knows to be Gregory’s sisters.

He mentally chuckles, _There is a reason I call many people goldfish._

 _Let’s not insult the goldfish. I think they may be smarter._ The cobra snarks, his gaze focused on the oldest of the trio. _I am traditional, hell, I am a cobra our kind practically invited being traditional but I have very low tolerance for people who twist traditions around to suit their needs rather than actually being honest about themselves and true to the real tradition ._

 _Understandable,_ he replies.

“Hi Mycroft,” Gregory states as he sets out the paper and plastic dishes on the buffet so everyone can grab what they need before they get their food. “Most the kids are eating in here, not sure where the extra chairs came from, the adults and teenagers are eating in the living room.”

He nods, accepting a glass plate that the older man hands him thankfully, he massively dislikes paper dishes. Silently he selects what he would like to eat and drink before retreating to the living room where he finds a spot saved for him beside Charlotte on the sofa with space for Gregory on the other side of him. while everyone is eating, he listens to the different people as they speak, he can see Madeline perched over by the chest board, and quickly signs hello to her. They have a silent conversation in between bites of food. After everyone has eaten, the children rejoin the adults and teenagers in the living room so that Sofia can open her presents. He smiles lightly through the entire thing, both happy he came and hating being surrounded by so many people.

 _At least they are not as foolish as politicians who think they are major forces when really they are nothing but toys to be played with that need to learn to keep their mouths shut,_ the elder cobra remarks as he settles on the floor next to the fireplace, somehow folding himself up so he seems far smaller than he is.

 _That is true,_ he responds with a mental chuckle, _Any reason you selected me to speak with like this?_

Shrugging, the taller man replies, _You are not an idiot. Surprisingly enough , you are not a liar either, despite your career path, I would say your rather cobra like in the way you dodge answers without outright lying as a rule._

Curious, he mentally arches an eyebrow, knowing the cobra will understand the question.

 _Cobras do not lie, it’s a design flaw in our personalities I think, we are compulsively truthful, however many of us do know how to misdirect and misguide based on changing words here and there._ The taller man explains with a mental smirk, his physical features perfectly blank.

 _Will you two pay attention,_ he hears the younger cobra cut in while mentally chuckling.

 _Whatever for? I could tell you everything she received and from who,_ he replies sassily.

 _I can multitask better than most these people can think,_ the older cobra remarks sarcastically.

Still, he returns his attention, the rest of it anyways, to Sofia as she finishes opening the last of the boxes. _I love the books!_ She tells him merrily, her mind voice faster and more excited than her normal tone, _Are they really cook books from Pierre Hermé and Padma Lakshmi?_

He nods once and she beams at him in response.

He spends the rest of the time she is visiting with the other children and teens after she is done with the gifts reflecting on the warm feeling her bright smile had caused in him. Part of his mind is cataloging everything going on around him, allowing him to respond as needed. Still he is mildly startled when the house goes from packed to there are just a few people left, including Gregory’s parents and siblings, all of which are sitting around the living room, most of which are watching him with narrow eyes. All of the children and teenagers have gone upstairs.

Just before he leaves the older cobra remarks, _If they get stupid,_ an image of the oldest sister accompanies this, _put them in their place. Our den out-ranks theirs. You out rank them on accountability of being brother-in-bond to an elite elder, that is before you add the fact wolves come before jackals in our hierarchy._ There is a mental sardonic smirk, _Besides I am certain you can understand exactly how to deal with people of that nature._

He mentally chuckles. A dark-sounding noise that he knows does not come across as nice. _Indeed I do._

It looks as if the three sisters are going to girl him when their mother speaks up, “If Greg wishes to court a human with ties to a wolf pack, particularly the pack your brother belongs to, then you have no room to say anything.” Turning her attention to him, the older woman introduces herself, “I am Page Lestrade, human bondmate of Frederic here,” she states with a smile, “My daughters Audrey, Laura, and Penny, with their bondmates Gabriel, Thomas, and Kevin.”

Keeping his face politically neutral he inclines his head with the same type of respect he would pay to the Queen as he replies, “Mycroft Holmes, ma’am.”

He can see where Sofia gets her ability to beam from, because this older woman with laughing eyes looks exactly how he is sure the little girl will as an adult, only with dark hair instead of light.

“Holmes? Wasn’t that the alpha-seconds surname?” the one identified as Penny queries of her bondmate.

Before the other man has a chance to reply he answers, “Indeed, my younger brother,” in his chilliest voice, putting an end to the conversation about him and what happened before it even begins.

A few minutes later Gregory re-emerges from the kitchen with a tray full of tea cups and saucers.

“You’ve not been playing Q&A have you?” the older man queries as he sets it down on one of the end tables.

“Mum forbids it,” Audrey states irritably.

He smiles coolly at her before leaning forward slightly and proceeding to tell her all about herself, causing her to sputter and blush before he turns his attention to the youngest sister and repeating the process. Sitting back, he accepts the tea from his partner with a small incline of his head before watching the way they react.

The elder Lestrades are both smiling, as are the bondmates though they are trying not to show theirs. The middle sister is sitting quietly, watching him with thoughtful eyes.

Eventually the middle one remarks, “You two are a matched set I see,” finishing her tea, she nods to her spouse with a raised eyebrow and he just about hears the conversation passing between them silently, “We need to be going, it was nice meeting you Mycroft, perhaps we will see you more often now that the initial introductions are out of the way.”

“Perhaps,” he replies without committing to anything, better to ensure things with his partner before promising anything to his partner’s family.

After she hugs everyone but him and her bondmate goodbye, the two of them leave the room, collecting their children and leaving the house.

For a bit there is conversation, sometimes silted and sometimes smooth, until slowly each of them moves on, bidding them goodnight. Eventually all three of the girls come downstairs to wish them good night as well, Sofia insisting on giving him an extra long hug and thanking him again for the gifts.

Once it is just the two of them, he is not sure what he should do, would it be acceptable for him to kiss the older man?

“I need to make sure everything got cleaned up, come talk with me while I do so?” the detective inspector queries with a tilt of his head.

“Of course,” he responds, rising and collecting the cups nearest to him to place on the tray.

With a grateful smile, the older man leads them into the dining and kitchen area, sighing in relief when he sees everything has already been dealt with except the cups he has on his tray. “My girls are awesome,” he hears the detective inspector mutter.

As the slightly shorter man puts the cups and saucers in the sink to soak, he moves up behind him deciding to try initiating the kissing on his own. When the detective inspector turns he discovers him nearly within touching range, a questioning look on his face. He is trying not to block all expression out, not an easy task for him since he has spent years perfecting that blocking.

“May I?” he inquires softly, lightly biting his lip which draws the older man’s attention to his lips.

A slow smile curves the detective inspectors lips as he replies, “You don’t need to ask.”

“Good,” he breaths just before leaning in to kiss him long and softly, inching forward so their bodies are nearly flush against each other. Keeping his conversation with John in mind he does not stop his hands when they shift from the older man’s hips to slowly sliding up his back before going back down again.

The result of that slow stroke is a low groan in his mouth while Gregory closes the small space between them.

His mind short circuits when the older man’s blunt finger stroke the back of his neck before gently tracing his shoulders and down his spine. It is almost an information overload but it feels too good to stop. So instead he focuses on kissing the detective inspector, exploring his mouth with a bit more purpose than he normally would. When they finally break apart both of them are breathing heavy, and it is a struggle not to clear his features of emotion and feeling.

Curious and gentle dark brown eyes study him as he stands perfectly still.

Was it too soon to do that again?

Before he had a chance to consider the matter further, they were spinning around so he was the one pressed against the cupboard as the older man went back to kissing him, hands gently touching his back, chest, and sides. Blunt fingers just barely touching the top of his arse. Despite the layers of his suit, he can feel every touch, every motion like a flame licking across his skin.

His mind had just started wondering if there was going to be something more happening tonight than the kissing and petting when a loud “Really? That particular counter had to be where you selected to get creative?” from a frustrated and amused teenager has him blushing as they break apart again.

The gifted girl collects up the juice from the fridge before bidding them good night again and shaking her head with a smile as she heads back up the steps.

Noticing the time, he determines he needs to get going since he has work in the morning, but he rather stay and explore some more. Perhaps they can this Thursday?

“That was a bit awkward, I forgot what it is like to have one of the girls do that,” the detective inspector mutters with a slight blush covering his tanned face.

A low chuckle huffs out of him, “Thursday? Schedules allowing?”

Nodding once, the older man repeats, “Thursday, schedules allowing.”

They share one more kiss, this time long and slow before he calls for his driver, leaving the house far later than he had originally planned and not regretting it in the least.


	17. Moving Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)

_Greg’s POV_  
It ends up being five weeks before the two of them are able to meet up for dinner on their normal Thursday. Partly because Mycroft is called away for work, barely having a chance to email, call, or text him while he is gone, partly because his own job often has long and erratic hours. So on the Thursday they finally mange to have dinner he is more than ready for it. He has replayed the scene in his kitchen several times, making sure that he did not misread it or miss some important detail.

What he discovers is the fact that his auburn haired lover intentionally kissed him, and touched him more than just on the hips or face like normal. He had responded more than he has ever responded to being touched, had wanted more if the grinding the two of them had done was anything to go by. There had been more emotion on the taller man’s face than he could ever recall seeing. For the first time he did not look unaffected afterwards, though the blush from their being caught by his middle daughter was adorable. Maybe he should mention that was a fairly regular occurrence when one has children.

He is curious if they are going to talk about it, continue it, or just act like it never happened. Personally he would like options one and two.

After bidding goodnight to Sally and some of the other officers he is out of the building and thrilled to see the sleek black car waiting for him. A quick glance at the front confirms it is Mycroft’s before he slides into the back, unsurprised that his politician is not in the car. Settling into his seat, he is surprised when they pull up to the younger man’s flat rather than a restaurant.

With a quick thanks to the driver, he is striding up to the flat, barely having a chance to knock before the taller man is opening the door for him, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Good evening, Gregory, dinner is just about done. I hope you do not mind?” the politician murmurs in greeting, a slightly hesitant look in his stormy eyes.

Smiling, he steps in, closing the door with his heel as he steps into the taller man’s comfort zone, tilting his head slightly and replying, “That’s perfectly fine,” before gently pressing his lips against the taller man’s for a brief, chaste kiss. Stepping back he just about smirks at the heavy lidded look the younger man is giving him, “Hullo Mycroft,” his voice is a husky rumble.

Without saying anything, the taller man reaches out and pulls him back, taking his time kissing him. Long, slender fingered hands holding his hips at first before slowly moving to stroke up and down his back. His own hands are busy as well, one sunk into that auburn-hair at the base of his partners neck, the other touching everything he can reach. The kiss is ended when the politician’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket between them.

Letting go and stepping back there is a disheveled look he is not used to seeing on the younger man, beneath that however is a look of need, “Excuse me, that is the alarm telling me that dinner is done,” the auburn-haired man comments, his lips a bit swollen from their kissing, his voice rough rather than the smooth drawl he is used to.

He nods once, taking his coat and shoes off at the wrack by the door while the taller man withdraws in order to serve their dinner. With a smile curving his lips he sends off a quick text to his eldest, telling her to make sure the girls are ready for school the following morning because he is not sure what time he will be home. She responds moments later with a short have fun message followed by all sorts of smiley and winky faces.

Heading to where he remembers the dining room is, he discovers that the younger man is not in there, so he continues on to the kitchen, discovering that he is making up a large tray with a pair of plates and cups. The taller man’s focus almost absolute as he works.

“Need any help?” he queries softly, trying not to startle the younger man.

Turning slightly, the auburn-haired man gives a slight shake of his head, “No, though I was thinking we could perhaps eat in the back lounge?”

Still smiling, he nods once, motioning for the politician to lead the way.

A few minutes later finds the two of them in the back of the flat, in one of the rooms he cannot recall having seen before, but that is not really surprising since he has not actually explored the younger man’s home. After being seated on a plush sofa in front of an unlit fire place with a large coffee table in between, the two of them carefully lift their plates off of the tray. The next several minutes is spent in mostly quiet as they eat their dinner. He is not exactly sure what it is that the younger man made with the beef and noodles, but it is good. Maybe he will share the recipe.

Since they are angled towards each other, their knees are just about pressed against each other much to his pleasure. He always enjoys it when they are able to be a bit closer than normal and any time Mycroft shows signs of affection without any type of prompting since it is rare.

“This is great!” he exclaims when he has nearly finished his plate.

Smiling the younger man nods his head in thanks, a slight flush covering his face.

“So what prompted dinner here instead of somewhere else?” he queries, when he sees the shuttered look he quickly continues in order to be reassuring, “Not complaining, just curious.”

“I hoped for privacy,” the politician answers after a few moments of silence, his voice low.

“Alright,” he remarks happily, returning to his dinner.

For a while longer there is more silence before Mycroft eventually queries, “How have the last several weeks treated you?”

While he is pretty sure that the politician knows all about his missing time, prone to being a bit of a spy after all, he appreciates the gesture, and grins as he responds. “Busy. Sofia has been surprising her cooking instructor with the fact she picks up information quickly and recalls almost everything. I think that woman spent the first two weeks trying to find a way to force her out, but my little girl managed to win her over eventually. Some of the other students in class resent the fact she is younger than them, but she ignores them and manages her projects without issues. She has even been offered a spot in the after school program starting in two weeks.” He pauses to get a drink of his hot tea, before continuing, “All three girls went school shopping, though I think Chare had the most fun doing so.” Again he stops to take a drink, “Oh! Sofia passed the exams and did all of the tests and experiments they required, she will be skipping another year, though they made her take them twice, because the one instructor swore that she must have cheated.”

Stopping, he flushes, “Sorry, I can get going about my girls, a bit too much.”

Chuckling, the younger man responds, “That is alright, after all this courtship does seem to be going towards a more permanent union, which means I would have a more vested interest in their lives as well.”

It is his turn to chuckle at the way the politician describes it. “That’s true, was your time productive?”

Inclining his head, his partner responds, “It was.”

Setting his empty plate one the tray he shifts so he is a bit closer to the taller man and waits for him to finish his dinner.

Once he has set his plate aside as well he raises a questioning eyebrow as he asks, “So privacy?”

Blushing slightly the younger man answers, “I would like to continue the kissing from the kitchen.”

Grinning, he scoots a little closer, angling his body so he is almost completely facing the taller man, his legs mostly tucked out of the way, softly he replies, “I would like that too.”

A bit tentatively the politician leans forward to press their lips together, one long fingered hand coming to rest on his shoulder, the other flat against his chest. Since this angle is a bit awkward, he makes the decision to make it less awkward by using his hands to lift the taller man and shift him so he is seated across his lap, their chests and stomachs pressed close together, the younger man’s groin just inches from his as his ass nestles on his legs. A startled noise escapes the politician but he keeps kissing him, keeping his focus on him rather than allowing it to shift back to himself.

When they finally stop kissing, and the taller man sits back a bit to stare at him with slightly glazed, definitely dilated eyes, he cannot help the pleased smirk that curves his lips.

“Hello,” he murmurs softly.

“Hello,” the politician responds before looking down and eyeing the way they are positioned. A moment later he stands before resettling with a leg on either side of his, so they are face to face instead of slightly twisted around.

His grin turns to a smile as the younger man settles himself seriously querying, “Is this acceptable?”

“Oh yeah,” he responds as his hand drift to touch the smooth material of the younger man’s trousers, gently stroking down the long length of his leg. Those legs go on for miles, and he can happily imagine what they will look like bare. “Feel free to explore to your heart’s content,” he murmurs as he settles himself against the sofa and watches the politician with hooded eyes.

Nodding once the taller man’s hands come to rest on his shoulders for a moment before he leans forward, capturing his lips in another long kiss. While they are kissing the politician’s hands start to slowly wander across his shoulders and chest, nimble fingers managing to burn through his shirt to his skin. He is not quite sure how the taller man manages to fold himself as he moves from kissing him on the lips to hesitantly scattering kisses all over his face and jaw before slowly working his way down his throat. At his collar the politician seems to pause for a moment as if considering what to do next.

Groaning softly, he tips his head back, offering his neck and silently encouraging him to continue. Unsteady fingers slowly unfasten his shirt, starting with the very top one. With every inch of skin revealed the taller mans lips brush over it, his tongue flickering out to taste it. it is one of the most erotic things he has seen and felt, in a long time, if not ever. Particularly since there is such an air of curiosity to him.

Once his shirt is opened, the auburn-haired man pushes it wide so that he can trace every inch of his chest and stomach. Nimble fingers discovering all of the spots that make him groan, twitch, or arch into the contact.

“Myc,” he groans as the taller man latches on to his collarbone, his tongue tracing it while he gently applies suction.

It is the first time he has ever shortened the taller man’s name, knowing that he prefers to be called by his full name, but right now while the politician is taking him apart bit by bit he cannot bring himself to call him something so formal and distant.

Releasing his collarbone the auburn-haired man straightens up for a moment, giving him a speculative look before ordering, “Say that again.”

“Myc?” he repeats, his tone lilting in a question

Smiling at him, the politician leans forward to kiss him with his kiss swollen lips before muttering, “I like it when you say it like that.” There is a brief pause before he remarks, “But not at any other time.”

A huff of a chuckle escapes him, his hands tightening slightly on his legs before he leans up to kiss the taller man again.

He is just considering unfastening Mycroft’s shirt and returning the favor when his phone starts to shriek at him, the ring tone a high pitched bell sound that Chare had set for Sally the previous year during the situation surrounding the Fall.

“Damn it,” he grumbles, knowing he cannot just ignore it.

Sitting back the taller man raises a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Its work,” he answers the unspoken question, fishing his phone out of his pocket, which causes him to rock up into the taller man, their groins pressing fully against each other for a moment, causing him to groan. “What Sally?” he demands a bit shortly, his nerves frayed since he is on edge, his cock hard and pulsing in his pants from the attention the younger man had been paying to his body.

“Sorry to call on a date night,” he can hear the distaste in her tone, “but we have had a triple homicide, it looks like it is related to that case three months ago, the one we could not figure out.”

“Fuck,” he groans as his head falls back against the sofa, “Text me the information, I’ll be there shortly.”

He has not even finished speaking when the taller man has clamored off his lap, grabbing his phone and calling for a car.

“Would you care for assistance?” the politician inquires voice husky.

Glancing at the younger man, he cannot help the smirk that curves his lips at the sight before him. Normally Mycroft looked unflustered and barely affected, but right now his breathing is heavy, his long limbs seem to have a slight tremble to them, his auburn-hair is ruffled, and his impeccable suit mused.

“I’d love it,” he replies.

Nodding the taller man withdraws for a moment, returning just as he finishes tucking everything back in place.

“Shall we?” the politician inquires in his nearly emotionless tone.

He smirks once as he nods, considering how quickly they can deal with this situation and get back to what they were doing. Because really, this interruptions thing was getting old.


	18. Touched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This chapter takes place during chapter 86 of Seeking
> 
> It is also the last Adjustments chapter being posted today, next up Seeking!
> 
> Hey look: Smut!

_Mycroft’s POV_  
That night did not end up going the way he had hoped. While he was not planning on sex then and there, he had wanted Gregory to have a chance to touch him, to explore him. Instead they ended up at a brutal crime scene, viewing the remains of a small family that had been nearly obliterated. He had been able to provide useful insight with a simple glance, much the way his brother would have, only without nearly as much dramatics.

Unfortunately, it seems luck was not on his side. No sooner had he provided the information needed, his phone had gone off, his assistant calling him apologetically, but there was a situation he had to take care of. After promising to send a car, to which his almost-lover had waved off, he is off going to deal with the fools who supposedly run the country.

It seems that through the rest of August and into September that is the same pattern that is followed. No matter whether they go to dinner out or eat at his place, as soon as they start making out or heavy kissing, one of their phones would go off, summoning them to work. They even tried changing what night they met on, but that did not help.

It was not until the night of the Harvest Flame that they were able to get some more alone time. Though not until late, long after the celebration and ceremony. Through nearly the entire thing the detective inspector stayed close, his arm sometimes wrapped loosely around him. it was odd feeling to him to show any sort of affection in public but he had noticed it seemed to be fairly common among the canine shifters and their more human off-spring, so he decided to accept it instead. He had noticed when John left early, the elder cobra going with him. He had even noticed the extreme depression that the doctor seems to have fallen into, and determines that he needs to make it a point of visiting with him a bit more. After the bonfire that concludes the festivities, Gregory had ridden back with him, while Chare had taken the car and the girls home.

At his house they discuss how the ceremony had gone, his opinion on the Harvest Flame, including the fact he is still in shock over the fact that the shifter Old Gods are real. It does make him curious if any of the human gods are real, or maybe adaptations of the shifter gods. He’s not sure when they end up on his sofa, stretched out side by side, his longer body pressed close to the solid form of the detective inspector. Nor is he sure when they had started kissing, hands exploring carefully, slowly, hesitantly as if every moment is precious and could be ruined at any time.

Time seems to crawl and fly by at the exact same moment as they undress each other partially, removing each other’s shirts and vests. He is even considering trying for the older man’s trousers when he is suddenly rolled over so he is on the bottom.

“Would you like to continue this? Us? I know I am a few weeks early in asking, but I want to know if you would like to continue as is or maybe try for something a bit more?” the detective inspector questions as he settles above him, solid body holding him in place while he supports his body weight on one knee and a hand braced against the back of the sofa.

His tongue flickers out to wet his lips as he slowly nods, replying, “I would, for as long as you will have me,” he knows that when his brother returns he might lose the detective inspector and the small family he has gained through him, but he wants to enjoy as much of their time together as he can.

Arching his back, he presses up against the older man, bringing his attention back to the arousal pulsing in their respective pants after all of that heavy kissing.

“Perfect,” the silver-haired man groans, “The girls have a surprise for you at the house, but that can wait.”

Then he is being kissed again, with a type of passion that sets fire to his blood, has him clutching at the slightly smaller mans back and trying to rub against him. Soon they are not just bare up top, but the older man has kissed his way down and across his chest and stomach to his trousers and pants before slowly taking the time to remove them and kissing every inch of skin he reveals.

If he was not enjoying it so much he would be embarrassed by all of the noises escaping his throat as the detective inspector learns where all of his sensitive spots are while ignoring his aching length. When the older man finally does pay attention to his cock, he swears he can see stars behind his eyes. It is almost too much, particularly since the only person who has touched him there in recent years is himself. Blunt fingers carefully hold him, stroke him, make him arch and make keening noises in need as they learn all about him. what really gets him however is when Gregory’s hot mouth closes around just the tip, sucking on him like an obscene lollipop while his hand slowly works up and down.

“Greg-gor-ry!” he moans as his hands grab at his lovers shimmery silver hair and hold on tight. He wants to move his hips but cannot because there is a heavy arm holding him in place. Actually, what he wants is more. A lot more. Now.

Instead what he gets is a prolonged tease, one that has him begging before the older man finally decides to do more than just suck on him, instead, the detective inspector nearly swallows him whole, cause him to strain against the arm holding him in place, tug hard on the older man’s hair, trying to tell him without words what he needs.

He can feel the smirk around the length of his cock before the older man lets him go for a moment with a wet pop, “No gag reflex, let me show you how useful that is,” the detective inspector voice rumbles against the tip of his dick, making him twitch in need.

Nodding once he waits to see what’s going to happen, surprised when he finds himself being manhandled into an almost sitting, half-laying position with his long legs touching the floor yet spread wide. The slightly smaller man settles himself on his knees on the floor between them, grinning up at him mischievously before he returns to his administrations. If he thought it was good before, now it seems to be even better because he can see every move and action the older man makes. It is the most erotic thing he has ever seen.

However his chance to appreciate the view does not last long before he is back to being a begging mess, wanting and needing the older man to do something more, anything more. This time when he is swallowed down the sight of Gregory’s lips stretched out around him has him pulsing hard and a moment later he is coming without any real warning as the older man applies suction.

Sleepily, he determines he will be embarrassed about how quick he came later. For right now, all he wants is for the older man to be back with him, he thinks as he realizes that warmth between his legs is gone. He is startled when he feels the lukewarm flannel that softly wipes him clean before he is being encouraged to his feet, swaying tiredly and barely awake led to his room. When the detective inspector turns off the lights he reaches for him, tugging him towards the bed, wanting him to stay.

Chuckling, the older man kisses his forehead, murmuring, “I just have to use the bathroom, I will be back shortly.”  


Sleepily, he nods, forcing himself to stay partly awake even though it is difficult when he feels so relaxed until the older man has crawled into the bed with him, wrapping one heavy arm around his waist and kissing the back of his neck softly. It is the first time he has received a blow job and the first time he has slept with someone else in his bed besides his brothers but he finds he likes the feeling. A small part just hopes he can keep it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes its short but that's how the muses wanted it, so there it is. I hope everyone enjoyed!


	19. Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would be greatly appreciated, thank you to any one for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)

_Greg's POV_  
He awakes early, before the politician snuggled up against his chest and stomach wakes up. A smile curves his lips as he gently kisses the back of his to-be mate’s neck just over the Watson Pack rune. While they have not formalized anything yet, he is certain that when he asks the younger man to formalize the bond he will. Of course that’s probably not going to happen for a while longer, first they have to discuss living arrangements, see if they are going to live together or have some other arrangement. The girls had redone the small room in the back of the ground floor as a study area for him, even had Eric make sure that security was top of the line so he could work in there without worry. His eyes drift shut as he just stays there, curled up with the taller man, enjoying the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his finger tips.

A bit later he is reawaken by the taller man rolling slightly, his lithe body tense.

“Something wrong?” he queries, his voice sleep husky.

“No, go back to sleep,” the taller man replies, as he scoots towards the edge of the bed and out from under his arm.

There is something in the younger man’s voice that alerts him that something is not right, and he sits up, almost instantly completely awake. Before the taller man can move away, he catches his wrist, tugging him backwards and back onto the bed, quickly wrapping his arms around the younger man’s to keep him from moving. At the exact same time, the politician’s instincts seem to view him as a threat because he attempts to strike out but the way he is holding him keeps from succeeding.

“Shhh, calm down Mycroft, lesson realized,” he mutters as he keeps his grip firmly around the taller man, he is certain that if he wanted to the auburn-haired man could escape. Voice a bit louder he asks, “What is really bothering you?”

For a long minute the two of them sit there on the bed, his arms still around the politician as he waits.

“Forgive me,” the younger man murmurs formally, “Please let go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he responds.

Still tense, the auburn-haired man sighs, his head dropping slightly, “I woke up disoriented, the need to escape, embarrassed, just….” His voice trails off, his head dropping further as his body seems to just give in.

Understanding is quick to fill in the gaps. He knows that he is one of Mycroft’s only serious relationships, that makes it easy to figure out he probably has things he has been told to expect and most of all he is not used to waking with someone else in his bed. “It’s alright love, here,” he lets go of the taller man, allowing him to stand if he wants, but he holds still staying where he is. Shifting slightly, he wraps his arms loosely around his lower torso, gently setting his head against the taller man’s shoulder. “Shhhh, it’s alright love,” he repeats, “Hey listen, everything is alright, we’re good from my end, if there is something you want to discuss please say something, don’t bolt.”

He doubts that it will work but has to try. Their relationship is too important not to try.

For a long while the two of them sit still on the bed still before the taller man scoots towards the edge and he release him without a word. Just shy of six months dating and years of being collogues and friends allows him to know when to push or not with Mycroft.

The rest of the morning goes quietly but good. Apparently his politician enjoys cooking breakfast because it is the one meal where he is occasionally home for. After breakfast they just spend a little bit of time together before the younger man calls for a car to take them to his home. It is just a little after nine am.

“Are you going to come in?” he inquires, it’s a Sunday so he knows the younger man is off duty at the moment. Apparently Anthea started arranging their schedules to get as much of Saturday and Sunday off, stating it was a good time for them to share time. Of course she is gifted, so the courting process is considered important to her.

The younger man’s eyes widen slightly and for a moment he thinks he will say no, instead his head bobs slowly as the politician slides out of the car, “Alright.”

Smiling, he slides out as well, heading up to the house. He is not surprised that all three girls are home, nor is he surprised only Chare seems to be up and moving since it is before ten in the morning.

“Hullo Daddy,” his oldest greets him as she gives him a quick hug before smiling at the politician, “Hullo Mycroft.”

“Good morning Charlotte,” the younger man replies, inclining his head.

“You two smell better, though Mycroft, stop worrying please, promise Daddy wants to keep you,” his oldest remarks as she makes breakfast for herself and her sisters.

A blush covers the taller man’s face as he turns in the other direction.

“Why does Mycroft smell embarrassed?” his youngest inquires as she comes trotting down the spiral stairs, “Breakfast smells great Chare.”

“Ignore my sisters. They forget we don’t smell everyone’s emotional state,” his middle daughter states as she enters through the front, “Though I cannot say much cause I feel the emotional state instead.”

“Are you two eating with us?” his eldest inquires as she gets out the dishes.

Grinning at his daughter, he shakes his head, “No, Mycroft happens to make a killer breakfast.”

Sofia bounds over, grabbing the politicians arm, “Then we can show you the surprise!”

The younger man blinks at her before nodding once.

Beaming, his youngest drags him out into the hall and to the back of the house. Chuckling at his youngest excitement, he follows the pair, as does his other two daughters. The entire time his youngest is just about bouncing and while it is not a long distance it is still enough time to see his politician get tense. At the door, Sofia steps to the motioning to the door.

Slowly the tall man opens the door and steps in, looking around the room with a look of shock in his eyes if not on his face. “Why?” he eventually inquires.

“Because maybe eventually you decide to come live here,” Sofia states excitedly, “So we picked out what we thought you might like and then had Eric make it secure since you work on some sort of government job with private things like Daddy has. Only more so.”

A small smile curves the younger man’s lip as he glances around once more at the empty bookshelves, the desk and reading area.

“Thank you,” the politician tells the girls smiling at them.

Chare and Sofia beams at him, before both sniff the air and bolt back to the kitchen. Madeline starts giggling before following at a slower pace.

“An office for me,” the politician murmurs, looking around still, wandering into the room and running one long-fingered hand over the wood surfaces.

“I told the girls you might wish to bring your own furniture, but they didn’t listen,” he shrugs, “I also warned them not to jump to conclusions, but again,” he shrugs one more time.

“Not to jump to conclusions,” the younger man repeats, turning to face him raising an eyebrow.

Sighing, he nods, heading over to the chairs and sitting down, “We haven’t even spoken about spending the night at each other’s houses, and while I would love to think you would want to live here, truthfully speaking, you might prefer us moving or keeping two separate households.” He waits. This is not how he wanted this particular conversation to go.

The politician settles into the other seat, “That is true.” Tilting his head slightly, the younger man gives him a serious look, “Perhaps I could stay over once a week,” the auburn-haired man suggests, “Your girls have settled here, there is nothing particularly sentimental about my flat, it is mostly used as a place to store clothing since I do not take days off often or spend time there.”

Startled, he stares at the taller man for a moment before a smile blooms across his face. “That’d be great, simply great.”

The taller man nods, glancing about with a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Shall we start today or would you like to try another night?” he queries.

Blinking, the taller man nods slowly, “We can try.”


	20. December 2nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would be greatly appreciated, thank you to any one for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This lines up with Chapters 89 & 90 of Seeking
> 
> Hey look: More smut!

_Greg's POV_  
In the weeks following their discussion in Mycroft's study at his house they have added the younger man staying over on either Fridays or Saturdays as long as he is not working. Since it is Fridays more often than not, only two of his girls are home for it. Their relationship has continued to get closer, though so far there has not been a repeat of what happen after the Harvest Flame.

As it gets closer to the one year anniversary of Sherlock's suicide gets closer both John and Mycroft seem to draw into themselves due to depression. He has a feeling that there is more to it than that for Mycroft but doesn't press because he has a feeling it has to do with Moriarty and that is a classified cases.

The week leading up to the anniversary the politician had selected to stay over more often. Not quite living there but seeming to want to spend as much time as possible with him. On the second of December Mycroft offers to take him and the girls to dinner. Since it is one of his days as John's watcher, he invites the wolf along.

Dinner goes smoothly, the girls keeping everything light hearted even though the two brothers-in-bond are not in the best of moods.

Towards the end of dinner his oldest privately inquires,  _Is Mycroft going to be okay? He smells very distressed._

Glancing between the wolf and his love he is not sure how to help either except to be there for them.  _I don't know Chare. I hope so but the one year anniversary is just a few days away._

His daughter nods mentally before suggesting,  _Why don't you go to his flat tonight? We'll be fine for one night. I think you two need alone time._

He mentally smiles at his daughter. 

It is not long after that they get done eating, the girls taking the family car home while he goes with the politician and wolf. Edward the eagle owl is supposed to meet him at their alpha's flat to take his spot as watcher.

As they enter the flat, the wolf's attention locks on something upstairs. John's movement becomes silent as if he is stalking prey, making him wish he had his gun with him. When they reach the landing at the top of the stairs he sees someone he never expected to see again. 

Beside him he feels his politician tense up, his eyes sweeping repeatedly over his brother. There is pain, joy, and fear in those brilliant eyes. Trying to be reassuring, he settles a hand on the middle of the politicians back. His mind is processing as he spots the cat that shifts in front of John, kneeling and speaking. As soon as the older cobra appears, his scales nowhere in sight, his Tracker marks visible he understands. Maybe not the exact situation but close enough. His mind whirls as he connects the dots, wondering how he could not have realized. 

He is drawn out of his thoughts by the female inquiring, “I would expect no less, will you call us a car if you please? I have Anna with me.”

 _Can Charlotte pick us up?_ His politician inquiries with a slight tilt of his head, the younger man's mind voice hesitant and worried.

 _Of course, just need to send her a quick text_ , he replies. 

“My car is outside if you would like to use it,” the politician suggests to the female who looks so much like John, his mind quickly replaying the scene, they’re related. Emma he had called her, this must be the cousin, daughter of the last alpha, also trained as alpha only she had selected to go to her mate’s pack as an alpha-second instead.

Her eyes sweep over them, studying them briefly before replying, “That would be acceptable.”

He can hear the general broadcast by the cobra but pays no attention to it. Instead recalling what was said the day of the suicide. His attention is caught by the cobra remarking purely to him, _I intentionally said ‘was’ when I said he was dead. Had I said ‘is’ it would be a different story._

He nods, understanding that as well, it is a well known fact cobras do not lie. Right there was the evidence stating that Sherlock was alive somewhere only he had missed it. A quick glance at Mycroft tells him that the politician knew his brother was alive, they’d have to speak about it.

Familiar gray-amber eyes watch him and his partner as the alpha-female inquires, “Will you need it returned for you?”

Giving a small shake of his head he replies, “No, Chare can come get us, she’s got our car.”

Chuckling softly, the alpha-female remarks, “Well then, we shall leave the bonded pair to their reunion,” then turning back to the doctor, she continues, “In two risings time I require an audience to discuss an important familial matters.”

John nods once, “In two risings time I shall grant your request.”

He notices the small look his potential mate gives their alpha before turning to leave.

As they head down the steps he sends off a quick text to his eldest.

-Please come pick Mycroft and me up at the Baker Street flat- GL

-Alrighty. Be there shortly-Chare

Once they are outside, Mycroft gives instructions to his driver before bidding the small wolf family good night.

“We need to have a small talk,” he tells the politician, watching as the young man’s eyes lost some of their light.

“Of course,” the cool formalness of the beginning of their relationship is there.

Before he has a chance to remark, his eldest pulls up with the car, coming to a stop beside the curb and getting out, “Want me to drive or do you want to drive?” she inquires.

“You drive, we’ll be good in the back seat,” he replies, his eyes not leaving the politician who he can see getting tenser by the moment.

 _I’ll drop you two off at his flat, scent says you need to talk. There are too many scents to identify everything, but something is definitely up._ His daughter tells him as she pulls back into the road.

 _Thanks, we might be awhile,_ he responds.

The ride to the flat is silent. When they get there Mycroft is out of the car before it is even fully stopped. Only years on the job has him to the door before the taller man shuts it. The two building guards barely even flinch as they head in so quickly. At Mycroft’s door he uses his foot to keep it from being shut in his face. However the taller man does not stop him from coming in.

Once inside he shuts the door and turns towards the younger man, watching him with narrow eyes. “Care to explain why you bolted?”

“Not particularly,” the politician snaps, “Please see yourself out.”

Raising an eyebrow he responds, “No.”

“Excuse me?” there is a deadliness to the younger man’s tone, along with disbelief.

“I said no.” he responds, stalking forward he brings himself right into the politicians space before remarking, “I may not be a genius, Mycroft, but I am a pretty good copper anyways. For the last few weeks you have been getting edgier and edgier. You’ve also been depressed. Originally I chalked it up to Sherlock dying, but your expression at Baker Street said you knew, at least something.” Reaching up to cup the taller man’s face between his palms he continues softly, “Talk to me, please Mycroft.”

For a long while the two of them stand there, two stubborn men just staring at each other. Eventually though the politician closes his eyes and sighs, “I knew you would leave, be gone, the moment he returned. Combined that with his anniversary of his death,” the younger man stops speaking, eyes shut tightly.

He frowns recalling what the cobra had said to the cat-female: You are released from your bond, go in harmony. Eyes narrow as he brings up his lessons on bonds from before his family realized he was not going to be a jackal. Bond of the Protector, used for healers and those on missions for the Councils or Old Gods. Since he doubts that Sherlock was working for the Councils, and as a human he is not a healer, that leaves only the Old Gods.

“You knew but not the entire time,” he states clearly, watching the politician’s reaction.

Drawing into himself, the younger man nods once, “I did,” there is a long pause while he continues to watch him, “After Doctor Watson healed me, that first day in the pack, I discovered. I was also told it was akin to a national secret, to keep my mouth shut and not go looking for him. Discovered just a touch of how dangerous the elder cobra is when furious the night he brought the two wolves to introduce as my guards.”

“John pulled rank on you,” he murmurs thoughtfully, in the two years he has been with the pack, there was rarely any occasions he could remember the alpha pulling rank, mostly choosing to allow pack members to be themselves and do as they desire as long as it does not hurt the pack. The one more likely to pull rank is Eric, and he doesn’t even say anything, just uses a glance. “For a genius you are really silly sometimes.” He grumbles fondly, understanding lighting through him.

Stormy eyes snap open and study him for a long moment before widening slightly, his face completely passive except those expressive eyes.

“You remember I grew up in a jackal pack?” he inquires with a tilt of his head.

The politician nods once tightly.

“Alpha’s word is law, literally law, it is obeyed without question, on any subject, because otherwise there is punishment and those punishments run the gamut for what they can be. John does not run his pack like that, but that is exactly how most packs are run.” He explains voice serious as he watches the other man, before inquiring, “He told you as alpha I am assuming to keep your mouth shut about Sherlock, am I right?”

Once more there is a tight nod from the taller man.

“Then there is no issues between us,” he shrugs once before heading into the politician’s kitchen for a glass of water. He can hear the taller man following him, but just barely.

When he turns back around he is mildly surprised to see Mycroft almost in his personal space, “Why?”

“Why what? Why is there no issue? Because I understand alpha word is law, I grew up understanding it in a fair stricter pack. Why does it not bother me? It does, but not the way you might think. Eric said ‘he was dead’ made it a point of saying was, which means he was brought back and I did not notice that one little word.” He downs the water, “Why would I accept it? Because that is the way pack life is. Humans have their laws, passed by a small group, most the time for the good of all in the area. Packs have their own laws, passed by the alpha, alpha-pair, or the council. I work as a law enforcer, I understand about laws and having to obey them.”

Getting himself another glass of water and one for the younger man he waits patiently while that brilliant mind processes. He understands that Mycroft was raised human, that the concept of obedience like that is not something he necessarily understands. Yes, power is held by a small few, but there is still a checks and balances, even for those at the highest levels. In a pack however there are only one or two people with true power. It is something his daughters understand even if they were raised in a primarily human household, just for the off chance they would end up bonded eventually. He had never actually expected to belong to a pack as anything more than a fringe member.

He knows the moment everything has fixed itself in Mycroft’s head because the cup is set aside and long fingers are cupping his jaw. No other words are used as the taller man tilts his head slightly, pressing their lips together softly, hesitantly.

Sighing, he sets the cup behind him before placing his hands on the taller man’s hips and spinning them so he is pinned to the counter as he deepens the kiss, hands still holding the politician still. Eventually they break apart, both breathing heavily as the younger man just about sags into the counter.

Lifting his hands to gently run his finger tips down the side of the auburn-haired man’s face he gently scatters little kisses across his lips, nose, cheeks, eyelids, and everything else he can reach as he tells him, “I love you Mycroft Holmes, I just wish you believe it.”

That seems to spur the younger man on because a moment later they are no longer in the kitchen as Mycroft grabs his wrist and tugs him out of the kitchen. He’s not sure if he is confused or amused by that reaction, particularly since there are no words accompanying it. They pause briefly at the base of the steps while the taller man kisses him with a type of passion he hasn’t seen much of in the last few weeks and his mind clicks into place. For a moment he debates about stopping him, because they need to talk. Instead he merely allows the taller man to tug him along, enjoying the fact he even wants to even if its for the wrong reasons it seems.

Sure enough they end up in the bedroom, but Mycroft shocks him by settling him on the edge of the bed and the kneeling, wrapping those long arms around his waist and laying his head against the area just above. Slowly, he wraps his arm loosely around the taller man’s shoulders, simply holding him.

It takes him a moment to realize that Mycroft is speaking but he cannot actually hear it. _Would telepathy be easier?_ He inquires gently.

 _I do believe you. Secrets like that are relationship killers. And I knew from day one you would consider it a breach of trust. That you would leave. I never wanted you to leave. I never wanted to get hurt like that, so I accepted it, and decided to make the most of it, but held back because I knew just knew,_ the younger man babbles in his head, he only actually catches half of what he is saying but gets the general gist of it.

Suppressing the urge to sigh, he tugs the younger man up, managing to stretch out and tuck him against his body at the same time on the bed, “It’s alright love, really it is,” kissing Mycroft’s forehead he just holds him, letting him continue to babble in his head until he has said or thought anything he feels the need to think.

Eventually the taller man falls completely silent in his arms, snuggled close against his chest with his eyes closed though he knows that he is not sleeping.

“Better?” he inquires softly, kissing the taller man’s head one more time.

Slowly the genius nods, “Yes.”

“Good, now listen. I was raised pack, even though I ended up being the only non-jackal in my family. My ex was abnormal. Shifters and Gifted alike believe in the sacredness of the bond, that’s why there is long standing tradition for courting and forming a bond between non-bondmates. Some of the most enforced laws among our kind revolve around the bond. I wouldn’t have courted you without knowing there could be rough spots of the colossal type and hurdles to deal with. It’s alright though, do you know why?” he queries softly, one hand gently stroking down the taller man’s spine.

“You love me,” comes the muffled response aloud.

“Exactly, I love you, have for a long while,” he states clearly.

Tilting his head slightly, stormy gray eyes watch him for a moment as if trying to see if he missed anything else, “Oh.” As he watches the younger man’s lips curve into a smile, before he scoots up a bit so they are face to face rather than at a slightly different level, “Good, that’s good.”

Smiling he replies, “It is.”

Leaning forward the younger man kisses him slowly, but there is no hesitation behind, just slow enjoyment. A moment later, they’ve rolled so he is now on bottom, while the taller man has straddled his thighs, hands running all along his body without ever breaking the kissing. It is in turns sweet, just a press of lips; playful, the younger mans tongue dancing with his, stroking and teasing, little nibbles at his lips; and passionate, steeling his breath away with its completeness. For the first time he does not feel like there is something missing or being held back. His own hands are tracing up and down the politician’s back, sides, and ass.

“How do non-bondmates go about bonding?” the auburn-haired man inquires before shifting from kissing his lips to nibbling and kissing his way across his jaw line.

Groaning softly he replies, “One generally asks the head of the family for the right to bond, for instance, I should have technically asked John but he had already given informal permission.”

“Why’s John the head of the family?” the politician inquires in his ear before running the tip of his tongue along the edge of it.

“Hgmmm, ‘cause an alpha is always head of the family, despite age,” he answers a bit breathlessly.

“Hmmmm,” the younger man hums before kissing across his cheeks, eyelids, and nose to the other side of his face, “Who is the head of your family?” before he returns to playing with the rim of his ear.

“Technically Eric, I think, hgnnn,” he responds before trying to arch a bit into the contact, “maybe me, I’m not sure. In a jackal pack it would be Eric.”

For a few minutes there is silences except for the sounds of their breathing and his moans and gasps as Mycroft takes his time working his way down his neck to the top of his shirt. Eventually the taller man inquires, “After asking what is next?”

His hands latch on to the younger man’s ass as he arches up, rubbing their groins against each other. This time it his lover who moans. Chuckling huskily he answers, “If the answer is yes, then we would go to the alpha and ask for formal permission to bond.” He has to pause as the younger man starts to unfastening his shirt, licking, kissing, and nibbling at every inch of skin that is revealed. “If the alpha says yes, then during a full moon ceremony we would be called to the front, to take the bonding oaths.”

“Hmmm,” the politician murmurs as he pushes his shirt open so his chest is easily touched. “What’s the oath?”

His focus is not on the questions but on the wicked things those long fingers are doing with his chest and stomach, the way they stroke down his skin, the way those long fingers brush his nipple just barely causing far more feeling than if he was to firmly touch them.

Nipping at his chest the younger man repeats, “What’s the oath?” before swirling his tongue around his collarbone before sucking on it.

Gasping he tries to remember it, though it has been years since he heard it last. “For us it would be,” he pauses as the younger man bites down slightly, and he knows there will be a mark in the morning, “I Greg Lestrade, jackal-child of the Watson pack, accept the responsibility and honors of being bonded for life to Mycroft Holmes, human of the Watson pack.”

The younger man’s tongue swirls over the bite he just placed before he questions, “That’s it?”

“Pretty much,” he gasps as the taller man moves lower, his fingers unfastening his trousers while his mouth works it way down his chest, stopping to lap at his nipples, first the right, then the left before continuing to move further downwards.

“There is nothing else to it?”

“Well you would repeat that back, using your full name. Our dominate wrists would be pressed together with small nicks in them so that our blood can mingle. John would be the one overseeing it.” he answers breathlessly as the taller man’s hand slips into his pants, long fingers stroking his cock. “My-croft,” he groans.

“Do bondmates ever do that?” the politician queries as he scoots further down his body, using his hands to tug his pants and trousers off.

“Yeah,” he answers as he watches the auburn-haired man with hooded eyes, “Particularly those coming from different packs, it is done as a way to publically formalize it. Even though by accepting the bond it is considered formalized already, that’s just the public method.”

“Good.” The politician’s voice is full of pleasure and something else besides lust, “Would you bond with me Greg?” he inquires right before his tongue runs down the length of his cock.

It takes him a minute to answer cause he is gasping for breath, for someone who has not had a lot of sexual experiences, his lover sure understands how to put that brilliant mind to great use. “Yes. Of course.” He starts chuckling, which turns into a low moan, “You realize though, I am the one who is supposed to be asking, since I am courting you.”

Instead of an answer he gets a smirk against his thigh before the tall man scatters kisses across his legs, only briefly touching his cock at any given time.

“You’re over dressed,” he remarks just before he decides to do something about that. A moment later he is shifting positioning, using his experience to shift them around so Mycroft is the one stretched out on the bed. His hands unfastening every button as he explores the taller man’s body, enjoying the various sounds that escape him.

He could not tell you how long he spends touching and learning every inch of the politician. What he could tell you is what makes Mycroft moan in pleasure, sigh in need, or arch with want. He figured out what things made the younger man beg and what was his breaking point. Figured out exactly how far to push before pulling back to keep him teetering on the edge.

“Greg!” the younger man gasps, his back arching, and his cock dripping pre-come, “Drawer,” he manages to express.

Reaching blindly for the small night stand he discovers the drawer in question and his fingers quickly close around a tube of lube but there is not a condom anywhere that he can feel, “You sure?” he inquires.

Long-fingered hands cup his face as the younger man answers, “Of course,” before kissing him.

He smiles as the kiss ends, slipping down his lovers body to kneel between his slightly spread legs for a now. Lifting them gently, peppering each with kisses before working his way to the back, “Would you prefer like this or on your hands and knees? The other way would be easier on your body.” He inquires huskily, wanting to make sure that whatever they do is right for both of them and not just him.

“Like this, I want to see your face,” the younger man replies just as huskily, his normally posh voice full of need.

Still smiling, he runs his tongue down the cress of his ass, surprised when he discovers that it has been shaved smooth and carefully kept clean. There is a musky scent of arousal and something that is purely Mycroft. He spends the next several minutes swirling his tongue along the rim, acquainting himself with the texture and feel of his to-be-bond’s body. When he is certain he has gotten him as loose as possible like that, he shifts to using his fingers, slipping one well lubed finger against the taller man’s hole before letting just the tip of it push through the loosen muscles. Sitting up so his weight is balanced on his knees, he continues to work the younger man open while he watches the expressions chasing across his face. Once he is certain he is open enough, he uses the lube to coat his cock, lifting the taller man’s hips so that he can slowly work his way in.

Mycroft tightens his legs around him, hands grabbing for his arms as he braces himself. Slowly, ever so slowly he begins to slide, gliding back and forth. It takes him a few tries to find that bundle of nerves but as soon as he does, he make it a point to try and hit it fairly often, enjoying the massive variety of noises that escape his lover and the way the younger man arches against him.

Time seems to both speed up and slow down as the two of them move together, developing a rhythm that burn the passion. It does not last long however, too long have they been flirting around with it for him. As he feels his climax getting closer, he changes positioning slightly in order to use a hand to stroke up and down his lover’s cock, bringing him to completion just moments before he is doing the same inside him.

With a groan, he carefully pulls out of Mycroft before collapsing to the side and pulling the taller man close. They should get cleaned up, he should go get a flannel, but instead he kisses the side of the taller man’s.

He is just about asleep when he hears the auburn-haired man whisper, “I love you too.”


	21. Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would be greatly appreciated, thank you to any one for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This lines up with Chapter 91 of Seeking

_Mycroft's POV_  
Waking up, he is warm and comfortable, his lover’s solid body resting close to him. They are in his flat, curled up together in his bed. His lover Gregory had not decided to leave him. That simple fact was still boggling his mind. Of all the possibilities he had considered, not once had he expected his love to react the way he did. Now that he pondered the points the detective inspector had mentioned, he realizes he was making assumptions based on his human background rather than taking into account the fact the older man had not been raised in a primarily-human household. Still, it is a joy, the kind of joy he never expected for himself. He had always told his brother's caring is not an advantage because he had watched them get emotionally butchered by mummy after the car accident.

Since his lover, and now they are fully lovers, is still sleeping, he studies him for a bit. The older man has silvering dark-brown hair, just long enough for him to play with or hold tight as he had discovered the previous night. When they are open, his eyes are rather expressive topaz brown that seem to change tone depending on his mood. Nearly his entire body is a mid-shade of tan, darker than he would have expected. While his body is not as firm as the evidence shows it was in his twenties, the silver-haired man is still in far better shape than him. There is only a little bit of pudge to his midsection. Both his arms and legs are surprisingly strong, muscled without being too much, in balance with the rest of him. Those limbs make him feel safe and wanted when they are wrapped around him, whether in sleep, passion, or just a simple hug.

That's quite a realization for him. One he is still adapting to.

He should make his detective inspector breakfast and maybe call in to work, see if his PA can keep the place sane for the day.

Just as he is getting up to do just that, his phone buzzes lightly. Recognizing that tone as his PA’s, he grabs his phone, unlocking it, and checking the message.

-Venomous has instructed me to insure you have the next three days off. If there are any major problems to call him instead. Obey?- A

He blinks at his phone, trying to process the message. Is that even safe?

 _Of course it is, I have higher clearance than you, most political players have at least one non-human in their family tree._ The elder cobra remarks in his head. _Resolve things with your jackal-child and brothers, both of them._

-Go a head with that plan. I will be there in four days.- MH

-Have a good mini-vacation. Congratulations on the return of your brother. I am pleased to see he survived.-A

-Thank you.- MH

Getting off the bed, he stretches quietly, glancing over at his still sleeping lover before silently padding over to the dresser to collect a pair sleeping bottoms to pull on. He then heads to the kitchen where he sets to making a fresh pot of rich, French dark coffee for his partner and sets a kettle to boil for his tea. After looking through his fridge and seeing what all he has, he decides to make them a full English breakfast. He is in the middle of finishing it up when the older man comes wandering in wearing nothing but his pants, and rubbing the back of his hands against his eyes.

"Morning love," the detective inspector murmurs as he steps behind him and gently presses his lips to his shoulder.

A soft smile curves his lips as he replies, "Good morning dear." He pauses for a moment, tilting his head a bit so he may lightly kiss the older man's cheek. "Breakfast is nearly done if you would like to sit at the bar."

Nodding, the silvery-haired man does so, settling onto one of the seats that allows him to watch as he moves around the kitchen.

Once he has everything done, he puts it all on plates, carrying them over to the bar, setting it down in front of his lover and his spots. He then fetches the tea and coffee.

"It smells wonderful," the detective inspector remarks smiling at him, "Oooooh, perfect," he murmurs after taking a sip of his coffee.

Flushing, he nods once, "Thank you."

He nearly jumps when he hears the older man's phone going off.

Grinning, the detective inspector unclips a case from the side-back of his pants and checks it.

Chuckling, he remarks, "The interfering cobra has arranged for me to have the next three days off." **  
**

He smiles back at the older man. The two of them take turns feeding each other, in between eating bites of their own meals. Every time he accepts a bite or offers one, the silver-haired detective inspector's smile seems to soften a bit. They do not speak, staying in companionable silence instead.

When they are done eating, they clean up the dishes together before he makes them both fresh cups to drink.

"Could we speak in the living room?" He  inquires a bit stiffly, nervous about the upcoming conversation.

Raising an eyebrow, his partner nods once, "Alright."

Carrying their cups, the two of them head to the other room, with every step he gets more nervous. When they reach the living room, he debates about where to sit and is startled when Gregory lays a gentle hand on his back and guides him to his sofa.

"Please tell me what is it that is bothering you." The older man requests, watching him with serious eyes.

"I wish to discuss bonding," he replies, licking his lips, "Last night was a rather emotional time and-"

He does not get to finish the sentence because the older man is leaning forward, lips capturing his in a kisses, freezing the breath in his body the same way it has for the last several weeks as he considered what was going on with his brother. Closing his eyes, he leans into it, one of his hands lifting to rest on the silvery-haired man's shoulder as the detective inspector deepens the kiss.

"I meant every word said last night Mycroft Holmes." The older man declares fiercely when they separate just the slightest, "With the turmoil currently going on, I would not suggest doing so tomorrow, but if you wanted to bond at next months full moon I would be completely willing."

"Oh," is the only thing he can think to say to that.

Smiling at him softly, the detective inspector leans forward once more pressing their lips together. Several minutes pass as the two of them sit somewhat oddly on the sofa just kissing. Changing positioning ever so slightly to make it easier between each kiss. Eventually he groans, sitting back and breathing a bit heavier.

"We should discuss the logistics of such an action. From my understanding it is equivalent to the human marriage," he remarks once they finally catch their breath.

"It is," tilting his the older man studies him for a minute before continuing, "Most take it far more seriously than humans. Particularly since the severing of the bond is a very rare thing. Even had my ex not been banished, she would have found her welcome very cold, no shifter or shifter-child connected to a pack would have accepted her as a mate, maybe as a lover for heats but that's it."

He nods thoughtfully, processing the information given. "Perhaps we could include an extra night or two a week we me at your home?" He suggests after a few minutes of thinking.

His partner nods, "Sounds good. The girls will be thrilled. Sofia already wonders why you do not stay there more after all."

Blinking, he considers that for a long minute before nodding slowly, "I am sure there are more things we need to discuss."

Smirking, the older man nods, "There is, but not right now, right now lets just relax. Tomorrow is the full moon meeting. I am certain it is when John will rebond Sherlock to the pack since his pack link is currently severed. So we will relax today, deal with tomorrows stress, and the day after that we can have that talk, after you have processed everything. Because I am sure you will be in for a shock when you see Sherlock with the pack."

Several minutes pass in silence as he considers that. "That is probably a good idea."

"Great! So how shall we spend the day relaxing love? We can spend it here enjoying the peace and quiet or head back to the family house," the detective inspector remarks.

"Perhaps both?" He offers, "Spend the morning here, and then head to the house after lunch."

"Sounds good," his lover replies, "Now I am feeling a bit sticky, shall we get a shower?"

Chuckling, he nods, "Good plan. I even have a change of clothing for you here."

"Good, lets go enjoy that then," his lover states as he stands, offering him a hand.

Warmth spreads through him as he accepts, today is going to be a good day.


	22. Good Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would be greatly appreciated, thank you to any one for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This lines up with Chapter 92 of Seeking

Mycroft’s POV   
After breakfast they spend a few hours curled up together on the sofa listening to music and cuddling quietly. He knows that his love is giving him a chance to process the return of his brother, their conversation, and the fact that they had agreed to bond. He was going to bond, which apparently is an equivalence of marrying, with his detective inspector. They would have to discuss it, but that is alright. There is going to be a future between them. Despite the fact he never thought he would have any more family than just his brothers, he was going to have a mate and at least three amazing daughters.

Just a few short years ago he never would have guessed his life would go this way. He had not been lying to his brother when he told him that caring was not an advantage. At the same time, he was happy he had taken the risk, that he had accepted the offer of courting. Over the last year he had lost his brother, nearly died from an injury that occurred years before, was miraculously healed, joined a shapeshifter pack, discovered his brother was actually alive still, started a relationship with the man he had harbored a interest in for years, had his brother return to him, and discovered that he was not going to lose the man he had started a relationship with. It was a bit much, most of which he got to process within the last twenty-four hours.

He realizes it will be an adjustment going from living by himself and only occasionally staying over to the Lestrade house to living with them. The girls had taken it upon themselves to provide him a safe and quiet place to work, one where he could do so without worrying. They had also been trying to make him feel welcome. Both Sofia and Charlotte cooked food he enjoyed on the nights he was over. If he got called in or had to cancel all four took the time to reassure him they understood, after all Gregory’s schedule could be very crazy too. Madeline and Sofia both enjoyed listening to stories of other cultures, and both had asked that he tell them in the languages that match the country he was discussing. It made for some interesting times since the girls only know English, sign language, and some French, but they were picking up quickly. The girls were also good at give him space with Gregory, particularly when they had been apart for several days or weeks as work sometimes caused.

By the time lunch rolls around he has decided he wishes to discuss the topic of their bonding, perhaps they can do so while they eat.

“Why don’t we get cleaned up and go eat at a café?” his detective inspector suggests with a smile, “Afterwards we can head over to the house, the girl won’t be home for a few hours, so you can get comfortable around the house, see if there is anything you would want to change and what not.”

He nods, that is actually a good idea. They can go to the café that he enjoys near his flat that he does not recall taking the silver-haired man to previously. There they can eat a leisurely and not-too-fancy lunch while discussing the concept of bonding. Though if they are bonding, do they still need to get married? The part of him which wishes to publicly claim the older man, proving to the world and all those who thought he could never have a proper relationship that he could.

A small frown curves his lips as he realizes that he has been trying to ignore dealing with that treatment and idea his entire life. After all, if he does not need someone then they were wrong, it was his choice, not everyone else. Well that’s troubling, he will have to take some time to look back over his life and see how many choices had been affected by that small fact and fear. Perhaps Sherlock had been right when he accused him of hiding when he was in his early twenties and his brother was barely a teen.

Shaking his head, he heads to the bathroom, getting cleaned up before returning to the living room where the detective inspector is actually waiting for him.

“Use my car or call for a ride?” he queries with a polite smile, he is willing to go either way, “Though the place I’m considering is only a few roads away.

“Let’s walk there, then you can call for a car to take us home or we can call for a cab.” The older man answers before his eyes widen slightly, “I mean go to my house.”

Smiling gently, he remarks, “Home is a good word.”

The two of them share an understanding look before heading out.

As they walk out the door he recalls the order he was given by the cobra and tugs his phone out of his pocket to send his younger brother a text.

—Would you meet me for lunch December 5th? — MH

They are nearly to the cafe when his phone chimes four times in quick order.

—I can. — AH

—Is something wrong? — AH

—You never text— AH

—When and where? — AH

Chuckling, he texts his brother back as they enter the cafe.

—The cafe in my neighborhood. 2pm — MH

The two of them take a seat in one of the booths in the back of the cafe it is near a window but not a good angle for a shot and allows them to see all of the entries and people in the cafe.

—I’ll be there.— AH

When Tara comes over to the table to give them cold waters and menus, he smiles politely at the waitress.  He does not actually require the menu, but he stays quiet so his lover can check it. A few moments later they both put in their orders before he glances down and tries to bring himself to bring up the topic he wants to discuss the most.

Finally he takes a deep breath and asks, “Is it appropriate to invite my brother Aragorn to the bonding?”

Grinning back, the older man nods, “Yep, actually, I was going to ask if you would mind me inviting my family? They never expected to see me bond, so they would probably appreciate it.”

A warm feeling spreads through him. His Greg wants to show his family their bonding, a public claiming that is more than just their pack. “That is perfectly acceptable. Perhaps we can invite Aragorn as well?”

Smiling, the silver-haired detective inspector “That sounds good.” the older man goes quiet as the waitress brings them their drinks before asking, “Perhaps we should have a wedding the morning of the full moon we pick to do the bonding, and then have our bonding that afternoon, that way both sides of our family can see it.”

That warmth grows and he nods once, “Perhaps schedule the following week or so for a honeymoon?”

“I am sure that we could get that off, or have our pack’s charmer make sure we get the time off.” His lover states with a playful smile before inquiring softly, “Do we want a summer wedding and bonding or do it as soon as possible?”

Tilting his head to the side, he thinks about it for a few minutes before suggesting, “Perhaps do so at the full moon nearest our first anniversary?”  

Beaming at him, the older man nods, “Brilliant, though not surprising, you often are.”

The flush of pleasure that rushes through makes it easy for him to understand why Sherlock responded so well to John. It is honest and heartening, still shocking every time it happens. Even more so now that he knows that there is not going to be an immediate end to it.

“Are we counting when you sent the first courting gift or when we actually discussed it as our anniversary?" He inquires after a few minutes.

Thinking about it for a few minutes the older man answers, “Let’s go with when we actually discussed it since that’s when we both agreed to try being together.”

He nods, falling into his thoughts for a few minutes and not coming out of them until Tara brings them their lunches. Thanking her, he realizes that he has been ignoring his date, and starts to blush.

“Hey, it’s alright, I figured you were plotting and planning, no need to worry that you’re ignoring me.” The detective inspector tells him with a small smile, “We don’t have to talk all of the time. I am perfectly good with just sharing time.”

Blushing, he nods and states, “Our conversation in regards to courting occurred on April 12th in the afternoon over dinner.”

“Well that gives us four months to plan then,” his lover replies with a smile, “So far we have decided to do a wedding for our human, non-pack relatives, then that night have our bonding, following the bonding go on a one week honeymoon.”

Nodding, he eats his lunch quietly, thinking about it before inquiring, “Civil wedding or church wedding?”

Chucking the older man replies, “Well the bonding is a bit religious, so civil works.”

Blushing again, he feels foolish for asking, particularly since he had realized after he asked that a bonding must be something to do with the shifter Old Gods. Curious, he inquires, “Is there a particular Old God the bonding is done in honor of?”

Shaking his head, the older man replies, “Often the bonding prayers are given to the pack’s patron Old God. As a jackal-child that is the Dusk Daughter, however our pack has blessings from the Shadow Mistress, Dusk Daughter, Dawn Son, and Earth Lord.”  Thinking about it for a bit, he continues, “It will probably be the Shadow Mistress or Dusk Daughter.” Grinning, the older man states, “It will be a light show I am sure. I cannot see the Old Gods denying the bonding. Now when the Dusk Daughter has Blessed this family repeatedly.”

Narrowing his eyes, he cocks his head to the side and up, thinking about it. It does not take him much to remember that it was the Dusk Daughter who spoke with him, who accepted his brother’s prayers, who apparently awoke the girl’s gifts. Ah, that must be what he means by Blessed.

“Since this full moon will probably be very full of Sherlock being welcomed back, we should wait until after to ask for John’s formal permission to bond.” His partner suggests as he finishes his lunch.

“I, yes, that is a good idea.” He had not even considered how having his brother back was going to affect the pack. He had found balance within it, would that balance remain, or would it be gone now that Sherlock had returned? Tomorrow he would discover the answer to that.

“Shall we head to the house? Might want to stop and pick up some extra food, I dunno if Chare did the shopping last week or not.” the older man suggests with a small chuckle. “That’s normally a Sunday thing, along with the girl’s laundry.”

Titling his head to the side, he smiles as he suggest, “Shall we surprise the girls by going shopping?” He pauses for a moment before asking, “Unless that would bother the girls?”

Grinning, his partner shakes his head, “Nah, the girls would be fine with it, actually, let’s do that and then make them dinner. It’s been a few months since I last cooked for them. Sofia and Chare do most the cooking and baking.”

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, he quickly summons his off-duty car. A few minutes later they are on their way to the store in order to do some shopping. When they get there, he glances about trying to remember the last time he actually had to go food shopping for himself.

Gregory grabs a cart and motions to the far side of the store, “We always start on one end and work our way across the aisles.”

“Good plan,” he replies as they turn towards that section and head towards the furthest end of the store.

The far end is the canned and jarred goods section and he watches carefully as the older man selects various cans and the different brands. From what he can tell there is no particular brand he favors. When he spots a few jars of pears, peaches, and apricots he eyes them for a minute before grabbing them to put in the cart. They continue down the aisle, with the detective inspector continuing to put a variety of stuff in the cart.  Over the next few aisle it begins to fill up but he has not put anything else in it.

When they get to baking goods section, the detective inspector grabs several items before requesting, “Grab the sugar please.”

Nodding, he heads over to where the sugar is. Biting his lip, he eyes the variety of options. He tries to remember what type of sugar he had seen in their kitchen previously but realizes that any sugar he saw was in a sugar container and not its original bag. Well that is not going to help. What type is bought for his flat? Again, he cannot remember, the minion who does the groceries puts it in his tea container and his baking sugar jar. That is not any sort of help either. Dithering, he decides to get one of each brand and is picking up the fourth one when his lover looks over at him and does a double-take.

“Mycroft love, why are you holding three bags of sugar?” The older man inquires with a small smile.

Flushing, his head jerks up and he stares at his partner.

“The girls don’t go through that much sugar in a week. The plain white sugar will work fine, they did not do a lot of baking last week so powdered sugar is not needed.” His detective inspector tells him.

Glancing down, he thinks, all three are plain white sugar. Which is the correct one?

His confusion must show on his face because the silver-haired man steps over to him, plucking the two small bags out of his hands and putting them back.

“There, basic sugar, 25 pound bag, it will last the week, possibly a little over, but not by much knowing my girls.” There is amusement in his lover’s voice, “Now into the cart.”

Nodding, he sets it at the end of it, before waiting to see what is next on agenda.

They move further down the aisle, his lover still plucks things here and there, though he does not see the reason behind some of them.

The next two aisles have nothing they need and then they are in the meats section. Carefully, the older man goes through the varieties of each meat. He is startled by how much meat ends up in the cart.

“Does the household really go through that much meat?” he inquires as he eyes it.

Glancing over the amount in the cart, the detective inspector nods, “In an average week we go through thirty to thirty-five pounds of meat, Chare and Sofia could happily eat more, but it gets a bit pricey.” Grinning at him, the older man continues, “We have a chest freezer we try to fill whenever there is a good sale. Chare prefers beef, particularly tips that have been sautéed with onions and garlic. Sofia prefers chicken, mostly cooked with fruits, I think she has fun seeing what variety of flavors she can put together and have the end results come out tasting good. Madeline prefers fruits and vegetables with dips, or dairy products instead of meats.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, he hadn’t figured that the girl’s animal forms would affect their food choices but from the sounds of it they have. It must get expensive purchasing that much meat plus all the baking goods that the girls go through.

“It can be,” the older man remarks, apparently he had mused aloud. “However, it is a lot cheaper than my ex with a shopping problem, the house I lost in the divorce and the good car that she took. Plus all the extras the girls used to take.”

Embarrassed that he had murmured aloud he does nothing more than nod.

Chuckling, the older man keeps moving, still tugging things that he thinks they will need in the cart.

When they get to the breakfast foods and hot drinks aisle, his attention quickly goes to the items around them, eyes sweeping over stuff until he finds his favorite cereals and oatmeals. Nibbling on his lower lip, he grabs several different boxes and plops them into the cart before looking over the hot drinks and wrinkling his nose at some of them. Most of them are the weaker American versions. Still, perhaps he could try one and see if it might make a good evening tea when too much caffeine is not suggested.

Shrugging, he grabs a few fruity flavors to go with the oatmeals, and shoves them in the cart to.

Eyeing the cart, he wonders how much more they have to do, particularly considering how full it is. There does not seem to be hardly any room left in the cart and there is still three more aisles left. Should he grab a cart and transfer his items to it? Or maybe put his stuff back so that there is more room for the things the silver-haired man puts in there. Reaching for the boxes of tea he had just shoved in there, his lover’s hand lightly grips his wrist.

“There’s room, leave your teas and whatnot alone,” the amused DI tells him.

“The cart is nearly full,” he remarks feeling awful foolish stating the obvious like that.

Smiling, the older man nods, “So it is, if we need more space, I’ll grab a second cart, but we’re nearly done so I think we will be okay.”

He nods, not sure what to say. Politics are a lot easier than this domestic stuff.

“Now then, onto the next aisle,” his lover states as they return to walking through the store.

There is nothing that they get off of the next aisle since it is all pre-made bread and baked goods. He is moderately certain the girl’s would be very offended if any of that stuff made its way into their house, particularly since Sofia spend so much time baking. The aisle after that are the frozen foods and he is only slightly startled when his lover grabs a lot of frozen vegetables to shove in the cart.

“Madeline uses them to make soups and stews, says it’s easier than canned or fresh.”  The older man tells him chuckling, “Of course she doesn’t cook all that often so we only get frozen stuff once every three or four months.” Tilting his head, the silver-haired DI remarks, “All that’s left is the fresh fruits and vegetables then we can check out, though we’ll have to divide the stuff up to do so.”

He nods, not mentioning that he plans to pay for all of it. With as often as he eats over to their house and all the treats the girls and Gregory send him.

It actually seems to take longer to pick out the fruits and vegetables than it did with any other part of the shopping. At one point his lover inquires if he knows how to select a good fruit from the rest, which is nearly offensive until he remembers that he is not the one doing his shopping and rarely has fresh fruit around and vegetables around. He leaves it to the minions to make sure the flat stays stocked with fresh things and to change out the non-fresh as they expire. So he listens as the older man explains how to pick fresh foods, and helps out. Not long after that they are done with the shopping and only have to check out.

As they head to the counter, he tugs his phone out and quickly messages the driver to pull up so that they will not have to wait too long when they are done.

“I’m grabbing a second cart so we can put it in there as this nice young lady checks us out.” His partner tells him as he starts to unload the cart onto the cart.

He nods, unloading the cart and trying to do so in an orderly fashion. Items are grouped according to type and quantity. Thus the each of the six cans of corn, tomatoes, green beans, peas, zucchini, bamboo shoots, and yams are all quickly grouped together before he moves on to the jars, most of which is his fruit jars. After the jars are the pairs of frozen bags of corn, peas, uncut green beans, and mixed soup vegetables. The boxes are the quickest, most of which are his. Following that he puts the meats on the counter, then the fruits and fresh vegetables to finish it off. With as much pasta as the girls like to cook he is startled to discover that there are no noodles.

As the cashier scans and bags everything, his lover carefully loads the second cart. Before the cashier has finished he has his card out and is ready to pay. He is more startled by the dark expression on his lovers face as he tries to figure out what he has done wrong.

He is thankful that the older man does not say something in front of the cashier and plans to ask him what he has done wrong once they are in the car with the divider closed.

Once it is paid for and loaded into the cart, he puts the empty one away while his partner pushes the other one out the door. When they step outside the black car is idling at the curb, his driver standing by boot of the car.

“Would you like a hand sir?” Anthony inquires politely as he opens the boot up.

“I’ve got it, thanks,” his lover remarks as he pulls the cart up to it and carefully starts unloading the cart.

He stands back, as does his driver and watches as Gregory empties the cart with quick efficiency. As soon as the cart is empty, the older man walks it back to the cart rack while his driver shuts the boot.

“He can pack better than I can,” the curly-haired driver remarks with a small shake of his head.

“Yes, he can,” he replies. He has been on friendly terms with his driver for several years.

A moment later, they are rejoined and the three of them get into the car, the driver sliding the window between the front and back of the car shut.

“Gregory, I have upset you, how?” he inquires, still not sure what he did wrong.

“The vast majority of the groceries for my girls, you bought them without saying a word to me.” The older man answers shortly.

Frowning, he still does not understand what is wrong with that, they had discussed his living with them, had discussed bonding and marriage, what had he done wrong with buying the food? Some was his anyways.

Sighing, the detective inspector pinches the bridge of his nose. “Remember me telling you about the problems between Charlotte and Aidan a few months ago?”

Nodding, he answers, “Yes, she had told him she could not be bought. By courting standards she was denying him.”

“The one doing the courting provides the food,” the silver-haired man comments tensely.

It’s like a light switch clicking on and he feels like a complete fool for not understanding quicker. “I did not mean to imply you could not provide,” he rushes to state. “I am used to being the one paying for things and handling the money. If left up to Sherlock he would forget all bills, it was only after John moved in with him that I stopped being the one taking care of it for him. Mummy often forgets too, Uncle does not like to interfere too often because Mummy used to scream at him when he would.”

Slowly the older man nods, taking a deep breath and nodding a second time, “Alright. I do try and remember you were not raised pack.” Shaking his head he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

He blinks, nodding back as he replies, “I apologize for forgetting and not inquiring.” Lifting a hand he offers, “I was just trying to help my family.”

A soft smile curves his lover’s lips. Leaning forward the older man presses his lips to his cheek, “Thank you.”

Flushing, he smiles shyly.

The rest of the ride to the house is quiet. When they get there, Anthony helps unload the car, taking the food to the door and setting it on the porch. Once the vehicle is empty he dismisses the driver and bids him goodnight before helping to carrying in the remaining food. In the kitchen, he watches as the older man puts everything away, learning where the food goes so he will know for the future.

After that, the detective inspector sets the kettle to boiling water, remarking, “I’ll make us some tea then get everything ready for dinner.”

“Alright,” he replies as he settles at the island.

He watches as the older man moves about the kitchen comfortably, at ease in his skin and his home.

“What shall we do for dessert? Make a pie, cake, fairy cakes, or biscuits?” The older man queries as he looks about the room.

“What is for dinner?” he queries, he is good at pairing food but only if he knows what the main course will be.

“Salmon niçoise,” his lover replies as he makes his cup of tea, “Particular flavor of tea?”

“Red velvet cake or fairy cakes?” he offers after considering the variety of flavors that go good with salmon before answering, “Earl gray is fine.”

Nodding, the silver-haired man makes his and brings both cups over to the island. Settling on one of the other stools, they take their time sipping at the tea.

“Perfect, thank you,” he murmurs as he sets his cup down.

“You’re welcome,” the older man responds, “I’m sorry I got annoyed earlier.”

He nods, offering, “I have a perfect memory but I had not consider it from a pack perspective, I would say I am just as much to blame.”

The two of them share a smile before finishing their teas off.

“The girls will be home in an hour or so, I am going to get dinner and dessert started,” his lover tells him, “you just sit there and admire my abilities.”

Trying not to chuckle, he nods, smiling in agreement.  He decides to admire the view too as the older man strips off his jacket and button down shirt, leaving him in his trousers and vest. His eyes follow the older man around as he gathers the dishes and food supplies needed for his two cooking projects before he sets to work. It takes him a few minutes to realize that the detective inspector is singing softly in French to himself as he works, though he cannot identify the song right off. When he does, he smiles because it is a lullaby.

Sofia is the first one through the door, and despite the fact he was listening for the car, he is still surprised when her slender arms are thrown around him, “Mycroft!” She happily exclaims, “Hi daddy,” she continues with a smile, “I’m going to go do my homework before dinner.” Her attention turns back to him, “Staying for dinner?”

He nods solemnly, “Dinner, dessert, and the rest of the night.”

“Great! After dinner we can work on my French!” she happily excitedly declares, before she bolts through the kitchen pausing to hug her father and heads up the spiral stairs.

He barely has a chance to process when the other two enter the kitchen and dining area.

Madeline’s hands dance in front of her in greeting before she smiles and lisps, “Hello Daddy, Mycroft,” before nodding to the both, hands flashing once more before she heads up the spiral stairs too.

“Kitra says hello. Apparently I am making progress but it does not feel like it, especially when I look at how fast Sofia picks up on things.” The oldest girl remarks as she plops down on one of the empty stools. “Then I remember that she learns things faster than anyone I know and feel better. I don’t have much homework but what I do have I will do before bed tonight.” Pausing, she shakes her head, “Hello Daddy, Mycroft, sorry if we interrupted.”

His detective inspector turns and smiles at her, “Hello Chare, I’m happy your lessons seem to be paying off. Not sure where Sofia’s intelligence comes from, but that’s alright, all three of you are brilliant even if it is in completely different ways.”

Silence falls between the three of them though it is the comfortable type of silence. When Gregory starts singing again, Charlotte joins him, her voice higher and clear. She sets the table for the five of them and gets the water going so that she can make more hot tea and chocolate. Sofia is down from her room before her sister, her own voice joining her father and oldest sister as she skips down the steps. When they change songs, she keeps up but up, settling into her spot. He had noticed on previous visits that they seemed to end up in the same spots every time, no one sat at the head of the table. He moves to his spot at the table, beside where the detective inspector will sit.

 _It’s alright if you want to join,_ he hears the middle girl tell him as she comes in through the dining room door instead of the spiral stairs, _I’d sing except I hate my voice, it’s why I enjoy sign language so much._

Titling his head to the side, he intentionally thinks towards her, _Why do you hate your voice?_

Settling into her spot, she meets his eyes as she answers, _I hate my lisp and the fact I occasionally stutter. They’ve never made fun of me or treated me badly for it, but plenty of others have. A lot of teachers and students don’t like to wait while I form the words properly. So I have appreciated learning sign language, it pisses off those teachers who used to treat me like I was dumb because of them. At home they don’t care what method of speaking I use. I need to practice with my telepathy, according to Eric I will eventually be able to make people think I am speaking aloud when I am using it._

He nods, answering, _Eric’s done that to me. I didn’t actually realize it until I heard his actual voice. It is just a little bit different than his telepathy. It’s the hissing I think._

She giggles, nodding and smiling.

“Share the joke,” the youngest suggests with a curious look, “I can just sorta feel the link, but can’t hear it. I wish I had a gift like that.”

“You’re awesome enough with the way you learn and remember, leave some gifts for the rest of us.” The eldest remarks as she starts bringing over the drinks. He had learned that they had their own patterns and did not interfere with them.

Grinning, the platinum-haired child replies, “You are going to be an animal healer and Madeline’s got all of the primary elemental and mental gifts. I’ve got nothing but a talent for retaining information. Not even a perfect memory.” Her voice is wistful.

“As I told Chare, all three of you are brilliant in your own ways. Chare is great with animals, Madeline can do anything she wants with her talents though she hasn’t focused on a particular field yet, and Sofia will be a force to be reckoned with in any field she chooses due to her ability to learn.” His lover states clearly as he brings dinner over to the table. “Each of you are unique, you have your own skills and talents, comparing yourself to others is not really going to work because you are a different person than them. Now, time to eat.”

“It smells great Daddy,” the youngest states.

Grinning, the eldest retorts, “It’s his salmon, its going to be awesome. So what good thing has happened? The only time you make this is when something has gone right.”

The middle girl’s eyes sweep over both of them, a look of concentration on her face that blooms into a wide smile. “That’s good. Both things.”

“Madeline love, listening in on thoughts is not polite,” the detective inspector tells the black-haired gifted girl.

She blushes, nodding once, “Yes Daddy.”

“Well? What’s the news? Madeline doesn’t like going in other people’s heads.” The platinum-haired youngest questions with a tilt of her head and her bright eyes watching them, “I’m too impatient to try reading either of you, particularly since Mycroft is so hard to read if not using my sense of smell.”

Chuckling, the brunette eldest just shakes her head and motions to the food without saying anything.

He can tell that his lover is stopping himself from rolling his eyes as he serves the food before taking his own spot.

Glancing at him, the older man raises a questioning eyebrow.

He understands the message and that the detective inspector is leaving what information they are giving the girls up to him.

“Two things,” he answers Sofia, “First, since you will find out tomorrow, but cannot say until then alright?” He waits until the girls all agree before continuing, “Sherlock is alive. I do not know exactly how, it had to do something with the Dusk Daughter. Second, we have discussed bonding and agreed to do so in April, along with having a small wedding.”

The immediate happy clamor makes him flinch but the girls quickly get quieter.

 _That’s wonderful! You and Daddy make a great pair, and while I cannot smell it the same way they do, I know that the two of you will last and the bond will take._ The gifted girl privately tells him, sending the impression of warmth at the same time.

 _Thank you,_ he replies, accepting the warmth and her quiet joy. Madeline is the daughter he feels the closest to even though Sofia has intelligence more like his. All three girls seem to genuinely care and like him.

“Yay! So we will have Daddy and Mycroft always.” Her bright eyes turn towards him as she asks, “Do you want to keep being called Mycroft or would you mind if I ended up calling you something else?”

Shocked, he can do nothing more than stare at the young girl with the hopeful eyes. That was not something he ever expected from the girls. Particularly after the way their biological mother had treated them. Slowly he nods, unable to form the words.

She beams at him, saying nothing else as she starts to eat her dinner.

Both of the other girls smile at him to, Madeline’s fingers flickering in BSL that she is happy for him. He understands that it is not just the bonding but the fact he is learning to accept.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, the conversation staying light and easy, not focusing on their news for which he is very thankful. He is still processing himself and is not sure he would be able to hold a conversation on the matter, particularly since Sofia just threw him back into a tailspin for over thinking. Never would he have guessed she would want to call him anything other than his name. This is his little family, Gregory and his girls. They are all his and he will do anything he needs to protect them. He thought he was done processing but apparently processing emotions takes more than he is used to. No wonder he tried to avoid them for so long, still he would not go back to that, they’re his and worth the time and risk.

Following dinner the five of them retire to the living room. He plays chest with Sofia while random talking in French. She is not very good yet, and responds in English more often than she does French, though she seems to have started understanding the words better. It is surprising how much progress she seems to make every time they talk. He is pretty sure that she will be proficient fairly quickly. Madeline has a book and settles into one of the armchairs to read it. Charlotte and Gregory curl up together on the sofa, watching TV and talking quietly to each other.

He could easily adjust to this sort of life.


	23. Pack Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would be greatly appreciated, thank you to any one for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This lines up with Chapter 93 of Seeking (or will once it is posted since I have not actually typed it up yet)
> 
> So this chapter started off as 3k words, then I edited it and it went to 4k, one more edit had it at 5.5k round three lost a few words but it is still rather long. Enjoy!

_Mycroft's POV_  
He wakes up to the sounds of the girls getting ready for another day of school. In the attached shared bathroom he can hear Sofia showering. He can just barely make out the muffled sounds of Charlotte in the kitchen below preparing breakfast for everyone. Madeline, he knows from past experience, is completely quiet as she prepares for the day. Beside him, his fiancé, and boy was that still a shock, was slowly waking up.

Stretching out against his body slowly, the older man huskily murmurs,  "Morning love."

"Good morning Gregory," he replies, his own voice sleep rough.

One dark topaz eye opens to mock  glare at him with amusement in his voice, "Greg, it's not a shortened version, just simply is."

His lips twitch in a smile, this is not the first time the older man had made that remark, probably would not be the last.

"Alright Greg," he remarks softly with a small nod.

For a long moment they just lay there quietly watching each other through mostly closed eyes. Suddenly, the detective inspector growls lightly before pouncing on him. Pressing him back into the pillows, framing his face between calloused hands, and pressing their lips together in teasing little kisses before slowly deepening it to something more.

Groaning, he arches into the contact, his own hands coming up to grip his lover's hips as he kisses him back. "Greg," he moans quietly.

Smirking as they break apart, the playful DI scatters kisses along his jaw, down his throat, and nibbles at his collarbone for a breathless moment before rolling away and sitting up.

"Tease," he mutters without heat. That was a wonderful way to wake up, he could easily get used to waking up like that.

He nods, taking a plate off the counter and making it for himself, he doesn’t eat too much breakfast he could have a biscuit or two. They do look very tasty.

“Don’t stint yourself on breakfast just to have a biscuit Mycroft. You look perfect as is and could easily gain a few pounds without any problems,” Greg murmurs in his ear, his breath hot against it, “Beside, if you are concerned we can always work it off.”

“Daddy! While I am happy the two of you have figured out how being in heat works, can you not discuss it over breakfast!” the youngest exclaims, pausing between bites of food to glare at her father even though she is also smiling, giving her a really funny expression.

He flushes even has his lover starts laughing softly. Stopping beside his daughter, the older man hugs the child, kissing the top of her head.

“I’m sure that you will get used to it or learn to tune it out,” the detective inspector tells her before making himself a large plate. “Those cookies smell good girls. Good job shielding Madeline. Did you do the air-bubble trick Eric told you about?”

He turns, surprised that he had not noticed as the black-haired daughter had entered the room.

“Good morning ladies,” he greets all of the girls as he eats. The pancakes are really light and fluffy.

“Morning Mycroft,” all three chorus together.

Nodding, the middle girl grabs a plate full of pancakes before settling beside him.

“I did,” she answers her father slowly. “It was tiring but good. I will need a good night’s sleep tonight.”

All five of them sit around the kitchen table eating their breakfast in companionable quiet. He is the only one who does not refill his plate. Instead his lover eyes him for a minute before putting a few more pieces of bacon on his plate and the gifted girl focuses on his cup, waving her hand towards the orange juice he watches as she moves it and puts it back after pouring him some.

“That was great Madeline!” the youngest exclaims as she nibbles on a sausage.

The rest of breakfast went fairly quickly. Once the food is gone, and he is amazed that it is all eaten, the girls clean up the table. Soon after they were hugging both of them before heading to the car and to school.

Once they are gone, his lover turns to him with a playful smile.

“We’re the only ones in the house for the next ten hours, since we have the day off why don’t we enjoy it?” his detective inspector queries, standing and moving in front of him. Offering him a hand, he continues, “Join me in a bath?”

His lover tenderly presses their lips together again as his calloused hands smooth down his shirt covered chest to the bottom of the hem. They are light, barely there kisses that leave him craving more. Slowly the older man buttons, starting at the bottom and working his way up to the top of the shirt.  Upon finishing the last button, those long fingers slip underneath his top and along his shoulders, lightly pushing it off so it can fall to the floor.

He shivers at the combination of moisture and heat in the air as his skin is bared.

Those hands gently stroke his upper body, touching him with a feathery light graze that seems to light his nerves up and make him ever so aware. When they reach the top of his sleeping bottoms, the older man slowly lowers himself to his knees but never breaks eye contact with him.

A low, wisp of a sound escapes his lips at the sight of Greg before him on his knees, head upturned and eyes smoldering.

“Greg,” he rasps, voice nearly breaking. He needs what’s being promised in those dark topaz eyes like he needs to breathe.

The look on his lover’s face is almost more than he can process, its love and affection, longing and need, sadness and passion, warmth and joy.  It’s everything he ever secretly hoped for in a partner that he never expected to find and so much more. Yet he wonders at the sadness, why is there sadness? What has he done wrong? It must have been him, the older man is far too understanding of himself to have done something wrong.

“May I Mycroft?” the detective inspector inquires as his fingertips run along the edge of his sleeping bottoms.

He nods once, not breaking eye contact, “Yes.”

Carefully, the bottoms are tugged down, skimming his legs, and time seems to stand still as his lover leans forward slightly, hot breath scalding him through his pants, one of the most erotic feelings and sights he has ever experienced.

“Greg,” he whispers achingly.

Once his bottoms are on the floor, he fingers his pants for a minute before pulling them off as well.

When he is completely bare, he swallows hard, nervously looking away. He is too exposed like this. All of his flaws and blemishes, years of weight changes easily seen in the marks on his body, that’s before one counts the scars and marks from his years in the field. This is the first time the older man had undressed him like this and it seemed far more intimate than any other occasion between them.

“You’re beautiful Mycroft,” his lover informs him seriously, eyes earnest. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

He swallows hard, eyes widening in shock as he reads the honest in those beautiful eyes.

It seems like forever between that announcement and when the older man kisses and strokes his way up his body but it is really only moments. Once he is upright as well, he pushes both his bottoms and pants off, allowing them to fall to the floor.

Kicking their clothes to the side, his lover offers him a hand even as he steps back towards the tub. He accepts the hand and the older man reaches behind himself blindly, yet still managing to find and turn the water off. He’s not actually sure how he gets into the tub without turning his head to look, but somehow he does.

Closing the distance between them, he waits until his lover is settled before climbing in as well. Unfortunately, that means he has to break the eye contact to do so without falling.

It feels so very odd but perfect to be pulled flush against his lover’s firm chest, bodies pressed together from foot to shoulder.

Long moments pass in charged silence though he would be hard pressed to tell you what that charge is only that it is charged.  He is considering breaking the silence when one of the firm hands that had been lightly resting against his stomach grabs a flannel and slowly starts to wash everything within reach. Light and firm strokes down his body send shivers through him as he leans just a bit more into the contact, his eyes drifting shut.

How could his love’s ex have not wanted this? He cannot understand. His Gregory is one of the most affectionate and honest people he has ever met. Just the small amount of care he shows in his every action should have let her know how much he cared, yet she threw it away and for what? To sleep with other men. Not a mistake he was ever going to make.

When his as much of his body is soaped as the older man can reach, his lover uses his hand to slowly drizzle water over him and rinse him off. Hands lightly caressing his skin.

“Greg,” his voice breaks in need.

“It’s alright love, just relax,” his love murmurs in his ear, breath hotter than the steam from the water around them. “Allow yourself to just be Mycroft, trust me.”

He wants to tell the older man that he trusts him more than anyone else in this world but he cannot form the words as those talented hands keep touching him. Since he is pressed tight against the older man’s body, he can feel as he slowly fills out against his ass, sending a spike of desire through him. He wiggles a bit, pressing as close as possible and wanting, needing the connection and touch.

“I love your freckles against your pale skin, it’s a road map for me to kiss and adore across your body.” The older man tells him as he presses his lips to his neck, sending lots of tingling sensations through him. “May I worship you Mycroft? May I show you exactly how handsome you are? May I touch you, kiss you, adore you?”

“Yes,” he groans, his mind going crazy with ideas and thoughts. His Gregory is perfect. He will never give up on him and will keep him for as long as the older man will let him.

“Perfect,” the detective inspector growls against his throat. The older man’s hands getting a bit firmer as both hands start to stroke his body.

His hips rock slightly, rubbing his lover against his rump and enjoying how he feels sliding against him.

They stay in the water for what seems like hours when he knows logically it cannot be or the water would be getting cold. His lover touches him lightly, fleetingly, with care. It makes him ache for something more, wants to be touched a bit more.

When his lover’s hands slip stroking his sides and flanks, he pleads, “More please.”

“Tell me what you want love,” the older man lightly rumbles against his ear.

“You,” he groans as he presses back harder.

“Then let’s get out of this tub. Unless you want me to slowly prepare you and slide into you here. I could, it wouldn’t take too much, just being careful because water is not as slick as it may seem. Of course I could always use the baby oil that Sofia keeps in here to make the water a bit slicker.” His lover offers with a light nip against the back of his neck. “I do love how our pack mark stands out against your skin, it’s shimmery silver. Eventually there will be a new mark next to it, the willing bonding mark. We will not get wrist marks like full shifters but they will be identical.”

“Yes,” he hisses, wanting that aching empty feeling to go away.

Greg somehow twists to the back of the tub, grabbing a bottle off of the wall rack. A moment later the taller man had turned back towards him, allowing him to settle against his chest once more as slippery fingers gently rub down the crease of his ass between their bodies before working their way lower to tease at his tight entrance. Carefully he works him open yet they still managed to stay pressed together in the warm tub.

Distractedly, he wonders, how was the water staying so warm?

His distraction quickly vanishes when he is shifted forward just a bit and he feels his love’s hardness pressing against him.

Groaning, he presses back into the contact, gasping as the flared head slowly presses in. The glide is different than with the normal lube but it still feels so good. Part of him wants to go faster, the other part is enjoying the slow and pleasant glide. Once his lover has pressed all the way into him, he slowly starts rocking his hips, its not full thrusting but it does cause his lover to rub against his prostate while keeping him feeling stretched and full.

His eyes close as the rocking continues and Greg’s hands start to caress his body once more.

“Greg,” he whimpers, “Oh yes, please,” his voice pleading as he tries to press back but finds he is a bit to slick to get much traction. His hands are gripping the sides of the tub.

“Just relax love, I promise you will get your pleasure, and when we are done in here, I am going to lay you out on our bed and take you apart the rest of the way.” His lover promises him as he continues his slow glide.

They continue this way until the water starts to finally get a bit cooler, though it is still warmer than he expected. Just before it gets truly cold one hand lightly grips his pulsing, weeping cock, tugging and stroking it just right. That combined with press against his prostate has hip coming all over the older man’s hand and his stomach.

Gasping, he is not shocked when his lover grabs the flannel and washes him off one more time before encouraging him to sit up.

Once he is upright and no longer pressed against his lover’s body, the detective inspector carefully slides out of him, and wiggles out from behind him.

Grabbing a towel, his lover wraps it around his hips before grabbing the second towel and encouraging him to stand up. On wobbly legs he does so. Noticing that the silver-haired man is still hard he reaches towards him, only to have his hand gently batted away.

“I’m fine love, believe me when I say I will get all the pleasure I need in a bit. For now you’re my focus.” His lover explains with a tender tone.

He considers arguing for a moment but the gaze in his love’s eyes stops him, instead he merely nods, “Yes Greg.”

Heading back into the bedroom with his lover, he is guide to stretch out on the bed while the older man sets to carefully taking him apart with the lightest of touches.  Over the next few hours his Gregory works him back to a state of arousal and need, it is the most affectionate and loving act he could ever imagine with the way he touches him, worships him. Eventually they come together once more in smoldering passion but ever so gently so he feels like he has been teased and caressed into bliss.

Afterwards the older man fetches a flannel to clean both of them before curling up with him in the bed.

They awake a few hours later and he is shocked when he realizes the girls will be home in less than an hour.

Sitting up, he stares at the clock, his mind whirling and processing. It is the longest he has spent in bed his entire life when not injured. But it was one of the most pleasurable experiences of his entire life too.

Standing, he stretches a bit and decides to get dressed.

His Gregory had said it was his bed too. Just the thought alone brings a warm glow to his face as he considers all the implications. It is one thing to discuss living together and bonding, it is another for his love to consider this his home already. It means a great deal to him actually. Leaning down, he presses his lips to the older man’s forehead lightly before heading to the kitchen.

Staring at all the biscuits, he considers packaging them but is not sure if the girls had a particular plan for doing so. Tugging his phone out of his pocket, he sends a quick text to Charlotte.

—Any particular way you want the biscuits packaged? — MH

Less than three minutes pass when he gets a response.

—Sofia says two per baggie, baggies are in the bottom right drawer by the stoves. — Chare

Quickly checking to make sure that the bags are actually there, he texts her back.

—Thank you. — MH

Slipping his phone back in his pocket, he sets to bagging the biscuits. Using his senses he identifies each type. When he is done doing pairs, he discovers that there is uneven numbers of the spiced, brown, and cracked sugar biscuits. Well then, put he can put the brown and cracked together and eat the spiced sugar biscuit.

He is still nibbling on that biscuit when his lover comes down the spiral stairs fully dressed.

“Hello love, sleep well?” the older man inquires.

Nodding, he replies, “I did, did you?”

Smirking, his lover leans in to kiss him, answers, “Of course, I always sleep well with you.” straightening up, the detective inspector glances at the fact he has bagged the nine types of biscuits before grabbing the mixed package of them and eating the brown sugar sugar biscuit. “Here, you eat half, I will eat the other half.” The silver-haired man tells him as he breaks the cracked sugar biscuit.

Chuckling, he decides not to protest and does so with grace before getting himself some milk and querying with a raised eyebrow whether Greg would like some as well.

While he is pouring the milk, the older man fetches a pair of reusable shopping bags and begins to load all of the bagged cookies in them.

“Thanks love,” the silver-haired man murmurs as he accepts the cup and walks over to the table to sit down. “The girls will be here shortly, after they get their homework done and a quick shower, we will be on our way to the pack meeting.” Tilting his head to the side the detective inspector inquires, “Are you nervous?”

It is on the tip of his tongue to lie and say he is not, but he has long since promised to be honest in personal matters so he does not, instead he nods once sharply without saying a word.

“Everything will be fine, I think you will be shocked by the difference between pack Sherlock and his behavior the rest of the time.” His lover reassures him with a smile.

He glances at him thoughtfully before nodding once, “Alright.”

Companionable silence falls between while they slowly drink their milk and wait for the girls. He should b e focusing on work right now, or something a bit more productive than just spending time with his Gregory but it is so rare that he has a chance to just be with him, that he is taking advantage of it. Thursday he will go back to being busy and hectic all the time, for today he is just going to enjoy his time at his new home. That is exactly what he thinks of the Lestrade house as, his home. Apparently it also what his lover thinks too.

When all three girls get home they bid them both hello before settling between the kitchen table and the island, each tugging out their work and setting to it. He is mildly surprised to see that Sofia has far more than either than her sisters and comments on it.

“Is it normal for Sofia to have so much?” he queries.

“She plans on skipping two more years. That requires her to know and be better than those in those years, so she does work for her year, and for the year above her. It annoys the headmaster but he is allowing it because she always passes and often knows more than those students anyways,” his lover explains as he answers. “Her goal is to catch up with Madeline so that they can finish their sixth form and A-levels together.”

“Ah,” he murmurs, remembering that he was bored through school and had been skipped several years because he was too smart. “Does she get bored?”

“All the time,” the older man remarks with a chuckle. “The only class she calls interesting is her gym class, and she has already decided that she will take gymnastics or acrobatics, possibly both, once she has caught up with her sister. I wouldn’t be surprised if she excels at them since she is the most active of my girls.”

He glances over at the slender girl working at the island. She seems to be multitasking as she reads and writes but he is pretty certain they are not on the same topic. His mind sets to whirling over the fact that she is one of the most intelligent children he has ever met, a small part of himself wishing that he had met someone like her when he was a child, perhaps he would not have felt so unusual if there had been others besides his brothers and him who were like that. Despite that, she is not actually as intelligent either, so she probably would have frustrated him because of that detail.

"Let’s go play a game of chess while the girl’s finish up,” the older man suggests, pulling him out of his mind.

Nodding, he stands and follows him in the living room. For the next hour they play and he wins two different rounds before his Gregory surprises him by winning the third one. They are just getting ready to start a fourth when Charlotte and Madeline enter the living room.

“Sofia says she has one report left and she will be done,” the older girl announces, “We’re going to use that time to go get cleaned up.”

“Alright Chare,” his fiancé agrees with a smile towards his oldest girl.

Both girls nod before leaving the room and heading upstairs a few moments later, he hears the water kick on. Since those two share a bathroom do they take turns or would they shower together? He wonders briefly before shaking his head, and clearing those thoughts, it really is not his business and he doesn’t honestly care, he is just curious because he used to shower with his younger brothers when they all lived together, partly because Aragorn was a klutz as a child and partly because Sherlock would refuse to bath otherwise, particularly when he was doing one of his experiments. Thoughts back to his love, he thinks, blinking away the curiosity.

“Lost in thought?” his detective inspector queries with a smile.

Blushing, he answers, “I, yes.”

“About what if it’s not a national secret?”

“I used to bath with my brother’s when they were younger, Aragorn kept falling and the doctor was concerned about it, Sherlock would refuse to bath because of experiments.” He answers absently before blinking at the older man and blushing, “Don’t tell them I said anything.”

Laughing softly, the older man nods, “Alright, though the thought of little Sherlock refusing a bath because of an experiment is easy to believe.” Shaking his head, the detective inspector suggests, “We have time for one more round. Let’s see if I can beat you a second time.”

Smiling politely, he sets the chess board back up and they play a fourth round. He is moderately certain he is going to win when the two oldest girls return to the living room though he can hear the water running so he is certain that the youngest is getting cleaned up.

“Checkmate,” his love states as he moves the last piece he expected.

Startled he studies the board and starts chuckling, he had fallen for that particular trick.

“Ready,” the youngest announce, as she comes bounding into the room, her hair still wet according to the way it is shining.

Shaking his head and smiling, his detective inspector stands up, “Grab the stuff to go to the pack house ladies and to the car.”

“Alright Daddy!” the platinum-haired girl exclaims as she bolts from the room to the amusement of everyone else.

“Ready love?” his fiancé inquires as he glances at him.

Nodding once, he stands up and follows the older man from the room.

All three girls are in the back seat, leaving the front open for him. The ride to the pack house is quiet, leaving him to think about the fact that he is actually going to see his brother acting in a position of true authority, not something he had ever expected to do. When they get there, they are some of the first ones to arrive according to the fact that there are not a lot of vehicles there yet. Sofia is out of the car and carrying the biscuits almost faster than he expects, leaving him watching while the other three chuckle.

“She’s probably going to bother the turtle,” the eldest girl remarks, “He speaks French though it seems to be a little different than French you use when speaking with her.”

“He’s Canadian,” the middle girl comments, “It is a different type.”

“Let’s get inside ladies,” his lover suggests with a smile.

The other two girls nod and get out, walking at a far smoother pace to the house.

Giving a shake of his head, he gets out of the car and starts to walk up to the house with his partner.

Five other vehicles pull up and empty out while they are walking up to the house. He is only mildly shocked by how quickly the wolves and other shifters seem to gather.

The four of them had just reached the top step when Madeline suddenly turns, her eyes focusing on the distance towards the city and the main roads.

Curious, he glances over and his eyes widen in shock as he spots the massive shape coming towards them. As it gets closer he realizes that is a wolf, but that’s not possible, it seems to be bigger than a horse. Moments later it is even closer still and he realizes that his brother is on sandy golden back. John? He thinks to himself as he stares, is that John’s wolf form? Amazing. Is that what they mean by elite? He had thought that Cleon and Jace were big, but John’s wolf is almost twice their size.

When they reach the porch, the wolf drops low so his brother can hop off his back before he shifts back into his human form.

Grinning, his brother states, “Close your mouth Mycroft, you’ll catch flies.”

Snapping his mouth shut, he glares at his brother for a moment before glancing at the doctor in shock.

“You act like you’ve never seen his wolf before,” his brother jests.

“Because he hasn’t, I didn’t shift while you were gone except for when I was at home with Eric.” The alpha states quietly but clearly. “He’s only seen the pups that have not actually grown into their wolves yet and are still smaller than me.”

“Sorry,” his brother mutters, surprising him because he cannot recall him ever apologizing willingly.

“Let’s go inside,” the doctor suggests, hand coming to rest on his brother’s back as he guides him towards the steps. “Hello Greg, Chare, Madeline, and Mycroft. I hope you are having a good day?”

“Hullo John, Sherlock, it really is good to see you together again,” his partner greets the pair, “It’s been a good day.”

“Hi Uncle John,” the black-haired girl replies quietly, “Sherlock,” she carefully pronounces his name.

Smiling at her gently, the wolf remarks, “Use telepathy if it makes you feel better, or sign language.”

She blushes and nods, hands flickering, ~I’m happy you are back too, Uncle John was sad without you.~

~Hello Madeline,~ his brother responses, ~You’ve improved a great deal.~

~It’s been nearly a year, I hope I have.~ she retorts with a small smile.

“Back to going inside,” John recommends again with a smile.

Nodding, he turns towards the house, going inside and surprised to see how many people are already there, he never would have guessed according to how many vehicles are here. He watches and listens in shock as person after person welcomes his brother home. Some of the shifters that had joined the pack over the last year also greet him warmly. Even more surprising is when he actually responds with an equal amount of warmth, or at least more warmth than he has ever seen his brother display.

The real shock comes when they enter the dining hall and he watches as his brother is swarmed by the children.

“Uncle Sherlock!” is chorused by all of them as they hug him, wrapping their small bodies around him, each taking turns being close. Almost all of them sniff at his shirt or rub against him affectionately. It reminds him of wolf pups greeting an adult member of their pack. It is the first time he can remember thinking of the shifter as their animal forms rather than their human forms.

The adults stay back nodding to him politely or greeting him by name, but none of them try to touch him the same way as the pups.

He watches all of this from a spot by the wall, his eyes never leaving his brother even as the rest of the Lestrade’s find a spot to sit down. He knows that they will save him a seat.

When the entire pack is there, prior to the traditional pot luck, John moves to stand at the front where announcements are normally made. Nearly everyone’s attention automatically goes to him, and those who don’t notice at first catch on when the others point it out.

“Hello, yes, I realize you are all excited that my mate is back, none more so than me, however please allow us to have a calm dinner, followed by a rebonding, after that he can choose what he wishes to share. Some of you came to this pack because of his action during the time he was gone and have a better idea than the other. Please remain polite, now let’s enjoy all this wonderful food that all you lovely people have provided.” The wolf announces in his captain’s voice, low but carrying.

“Yes alpha,” and “Yes sir,” choruses around the room.

Shaking his head, he rejoins his little family as they head up to the buffet.

“You alright?” his lover asks softly.

He nods once, “Yes, of course.” 

“It’s a bit much, yeah? If you want to sit down at our table, I’ll bring you some food. We’re over there,” his fiancé points to the far table where they normally sit.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, relieved that he does not have to be so close to so many people.

Touching his arm, his love nods towards the table again with a warm smile.

Turning on the ball of his feet, he heads to the table, gladly sitting so his back is to the wall as he starts processing everything he has seen in the last few minutes. He does not come out of his mind until his detective inspector sits down beside him, setting a plate full of his favorites in front of him, including some of the biscuits the girls made. A moment later the youngest Lestrade is seated on his other side, her wide eyes carefully watching all of those around them. The other two Lestrades, both cobras, John and Sherlock all settle at the table with him.

He is happy that it actually that the people at the table are quiet and the rest of the room seems to be abnormally quiet considering the quantity of people in the room.

~I have an air bubble around us,~ Madeline signs, smiling at him, ~it gives us a bit more quiet, Daddy said that you were processing.~

~Thank you,~ he replies.

He has his brother back, his little family, and is going to try and improve his relationship with his other brother. There is a lot to process but he is sure that they will give him time to do so.


	24. Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Originally had this chapter all ready to post Thursday night into Friday morning, went to do the editing and realized one of my cats had deleted most of it when I was in the bathroom. So I retyped it, and my computer decided to update while it was saving, corrupting the file. Grumbling, because I really liked the second version, I wrote it up a third time, only to have my Sia (Siamese cat) hit the power button on my computer, and when I got it booted back up, the file was corrupt again. This is the forth edition of this chapter and I have managed to get it completed and edited without anything going wrong. So I am sorry its late, my computer and cats were conspiring against me this time.

_Mycroft’s POV_  
After the pack meeting, he feels overwhelmed and needs a bit of space, asking to be dropped off at his house instead. He spends the entire night thinking about everything that had happened, adding the new information to the information he already has and processing. Somewhere around three am he realizes that he wants to cuddle up with his fiancé but cannot because he had the older man drop him off at his flat.

Annoyed with himself because of that, he gets up and starts pacing around his flat, looking around and deciding what he would like to take to the Lestrade home when he eventually moves in. Unsurprising, the only things he really wants are his movies, music collection, record player, and books. His new office has a spot for all of his private collection, computer, and files. He has a few pieces of artwork he would not mind taking with him, though the walls at their house except his office are full of family pictures, they probably wouldn’t want his old paintings on the walls. Well he can ask at least. That’s it. There is nothing else that he would take with him.

He would see if the girls wanted any of the things in the flat, if so he would put them in storage for them or bring them along to the house. Sofia might be interested in his kitchen since he has a rather generous kitchen from when he considered baking as a hobby before deciding that he does not need the extra weight that would come with baking so much. Particularly since his weight already has a yoyo problem.

His Gregory and the girls would love it if he would be there more, perhaps he should see about moving in sooner than later. Especially since he wishes he was there and curled up with his love right now.

If someone had told him two years ago that he was going to end up a member of a wolf pack, in love with the detective inspector who works with his brother, and planning to get married he would have called them insane and had them committed. Now though, he could not imagine his life being different. He wishes that he had not had to go through the loss of his brother to do it but the loss of his brother helped him become open minded towards the relationship with his detective inspector.

Shaking his head, he decides to get on his laptop and work on some of the paperwork he has to do. First he finishes up all older paperwork he needed to complete. Then he turns his attention to reviewing the files that his handy assistant had already loaded for him, so he will have less to review the next day. Several hours pass like that until he is all caught up. Glancing at the clock he discovers that he still has eight hours until it is time to meet his brother. How to spend that time?

After pacing about for a few minutes, he decides to send an email to his lover just because he can.

—Good Morning Greg,

I hope you are slumbering well right now. I have found myself at a loss. I asked  you to drop me off at the flat and now I am desiring that I was with you instead. So here I am in my flat and I have already figured out what minor things I would keep and what I would either get rid of or put in storage for the girls if they would want them. Do you think that I could hang some of my paintings about? Otherwise I will just take them to the family estate and leave them there.

Have I ever mentioned the fact we have a family estate? It is not huge, but it is a decent sized. It belonged to my grandfather. No one has lived there in years. Mummy dislikes it. She has always disliked it, though I do not know why. We used to visit it occasionally before Father died. It is smaller than the Watson Pack Home (is that supposed to be capitalized? There is still a great deal I am learning) yet bigger than your home. It is a three hour drive from the city, there is a care taker, and a live in house keeper.

The fact you called your bed ‘ours’ last night meant a great deal to me. The fact that Sofia asked if you could call me something else means a great deal to me as well. Just the fact that your daughters seem to have accepted me so easily is remarkable. I do not understand but do not plan to question it.

I doubt Sofia would take to well to my cook, unless it was for lessons, so I will give her a generous severance package. Perhaps suggest somewhere new to seek employment. She only cooks for me on Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday.  What I do not eat she gets rid of. I think she donates the food that is still editable. I also have a maid who comes through twice a week. Would retaining her be of any use? Your house seems very clean as is, but I thought I should inquire. Otherwise I will offer her the same deal as my cook.

I have twenty three suits, fourteen pairs of trousers, fifteen shirts, and three drawers worth of other clothing. The reason I mention this is I do not know how much space there is in the closet and dresser, will I need to bring mine?

I am unaccustomed to days off. Already I have finished reading the reports and emails to deal with for tomorrow, prepared three projects, caught up on all behind paperwork, and reviewed several past files. I have also included notes on four cold cases. I hope that was not too forward.

There is now seven hours until my lunch with my brother, perhaps afterwards I can return to your house, I will call to see if that is acceptable.

Pleasant Dreams,

Mycroft—

Standing, he decides on perhaps a hot shower but before he has a chance to cross the room his laptop chimes. Settling back at it, he tilts his head to the side as he checks it. a message from his Greg, already?

—Mycroft love, It’s a school day, I’m up already. Chare and the girls plan to take the car. Unless you want me to come over? Greg—

He considers it briefly, glancing at the clock and making up his mind.

—Greg, I would enjoy that. Mycroft—

—Be over in an hour than. —

He doesn’t understand the sort of excitement that flares through him at the thought of his fiancé coming over. They spent most of the last two days together. There had been cuddling, sex, lots of food, shared time, and a pack meeting. It was lovely.  Then last night he had realized he did not want to be in his flat by himself. He wanted to be with his lover and his new little family.

Stretching, he heads to his loo, taking a quick shower before dressing in one of his more informal suits. He rarely wears his non-suit clothing, keeping them around just for other purposes or the rare occasions when all his suits are at the dry cleaner.

Heading into the kitchen, he makes a fresh pot of coffee and grabs some of the snack foods that his cook had made him. He sets the snack foods on a tray, before glancing about and trying to figure out what he has missed.

Shaking his head, he hears the three sharp knocks at his door and goes to open it, pleased to see his detective inspector on the other side and surprised that he is holding a box.

“You didn’t have—“ he begins before cutting himself off, “Courting gift?”

A signal quick nod is his answer as the box is held out to him.

Smiling, he accepts the box, and motions the older man inside. “Is there a particular set of rules around the courting gifts? I notice that days I stay with you, you do not often do the little boxes.”

The detective inspector’s skin turns a light shade of pink, “Technically I should be gift giving those days too, so I normally just do a duel gift the next day or the day before if I know when we’re going to be together next.” His blush gets a bit brighter, “I sort of hope spending time together counts too.”

“It does,” he states softly, thinking it is really the best courting gift. Most people have a hard time dealing with him and his brother. That was a big part of his problem with people, so the idea that someone wants to spend time with him is novel. Even bigger than that is the fact he can deal with Greg so easily. Most people annoy him with their stupidity too much to deal with on a personal level. “It is more than enough. If that was the only gift I would be blessed.”

Gregory turns a particularly lovely shade of pink.

“Come in, please,” he requests softly, making sure he is out of the way and closing the door behind the older man as he enters.

“I smell coffee,” the older man announces with a smile, changing the subject and trying to get away from blushing.

“Yes, extra strong and rich as you prefer it,” he answers with a small nod, leading them into the kitchen as he opens the box to reveal its contents of it, stopping dead in his tracks as he spots the matched set of platinum cufflinks and tie pin. The cufflinks have a circle pattern made of alternating diamonds and peridots, his and Gregory’s birthstones, pressed close together. While the tie pin has the same pattern for the first stone with a single red garnet, citrine, and red ruby, the girl’s birthstones lined up beside it. There is room for more stones, which surprises him, unless of course they adopt some day.

Turning to face his fiancé, he absently asks, “Is there a way for us to have children besides those methods in the human world?”

Nodding, and freezing in place, his detective inspector replies, “There is, after bonding we can find a jackal-child who is willing to surrogate, and ask John if he will perform the conception. There is more to it than that, but I don’t know exactly what, we would have to ask John or Eric, they’d know.”

“Eric?” he repeats, confused because why would the cobra who is definitely not a healer know.

Chuckling softly, the older man answers, “He knows all the traditions, I don’t know if it’s because he is a cobra or because he is a tracker.”

He nods, understanding that better though the word tracker is one he keeps hearing but “Thank you for these, they are beautiful."

Stepping close, the silver-haired man lifts his hand to gently cup his cheek, “You’re welcome love.”

Leaning forward, he lightly kisses his lover on the lips chastely. Smiling, he steps back and turns back to the kitchen, “Does the extra room mean you would like to consider us having a child someday?”

“Yes, I would, but only if you want one too. I love my girls, and no one will replace them, I would love our child just as much.” The older man informs him with a hesitant smile.

“It is something to consider,” he replies, his mind reeling. They could have a child? That is definitely something to think on later, when he is not going to see his youngest brother in just a few short hours, when he has time to process. That seems to be his mode lately. Processing emotional information which takes so much more time than his logical mind really appreciates. “Coffee?” he inquires as he heads to the cupboard with his dishes.

“Please,” his fiancé responds, allowing him to drop the topic before offering, “So you said in your letter that you have already considered what you want to move, we could do that today if you want? The girls and I are good at moving and doing so quickly.”

 

He nods and then stops with a small frown, “There is a great many books.”

Chuckling, his lover states, “You haven’t been in our basement, the girls have a lot of books too, particularly Sofia who goes through them so fast and gets multiples on every topic she is interested in. She has entire crates in the basement dedicated to past topics of interest and a few current topics that she has already finished reading. When given a choice, she never gets rid of books, though she used to trade them in for new books when we couldn’t afford books because of my ex and her shopping problem.”   Accepting the coffee, he takes a long drink, sighing contently. “Perfect. How’s this: let’s pack a bit, have a cuddle, pack a bit more, and I’ll call the pack teens that are Chare’s age after school. I have a feeling we could have it all moved in a very short period of time.”

They had moved over to the table to sit down while talking, he has the tray with snack foods on it.

“I could have the movers do it, it is no problem,” he comments, a bit confused as to why Greg may not like movers.

“Then let’s pre-warn Chare and Sofia, Sofia has shown a few signs of being territorial.” His lover replies with a smile.

It is at that point that it clicks. Sofia and Charlotte are both jackals, a type of canine that can be very territorial. It is another instance of him considering things from the human perspective rather than the shifter one. Bothering the girls is not what he wants to do.

“Is the garage empty currently?” he inquires, coming up with an idea.

Tilting his head, the older man thinks of it for a minute before nodding, “Yeah, why?”

“I could have the movers pack everything and carefully place it in the garage like they would a storage area, then we could move the things to the house ourselves.” He suggests, “Most of the furniture I am leaving here for the moment, I thought we could bring the girls over and let them pick what they might want in the future and put it in storage for them.”

“What’s your plan for the piano?” his lover inquires, “If I remember correctly you have one.”

He shrugs answering, “I had thought to send it to the family estate. While I enjoy playing it I rarely have time and I would not wish to take up too much space.”

Shaking his head and snorting softly, the silver-haired man responds, “You are an idiot sometimes. You wouldn’t be taking up too much space by bringing your piano. It could easily fit in the living room by the window and move the chest set to the wall behind the sofa. If by the window is not a good spot, we put it where I was thinking of putting the chess table. There is also the option of putting it upstairs but that might be a bit harder. Though Madeline would probably take it as a challenge and see what trick she could do to do so, most likely with Eric there to make sure if she fails it doesn’t get broke.” Cocking his head to the side, he queries, “Is there any actual furniture you would like o bring, or trade out? I can tell you the girl won’t mind, particularly if we tuck away any pieces they like for later use.”

Thinking about whether there is any furniture he would like or not, he absently gets up to get Greg another coffee while making himself a tea. When he comments, “I like the armchairs in front of the fire place in my study, but they are unimportant and I do not care if I take them or not.”

“We can put them in the upstairs hall if you want, or trade out your office chairs,” smiling and accepting the coffee the silver-haired man continues, “As for your artwork, if you don’t mind paintings done by the girls and photos of the family around them they can go on the walls both upstairs and down. The stair-side of the upstairs hall is empty, nothing hanging there yet, and there is not much in the living room either.”

He nods, tugging out his phone and quickly making a call to his assistant, telling her exactly what he wants moved and where he wants it. She quickly repeats all information she wishes to confirm back to him and bids him good day.

“The movers will be here at one, my lunch with Aragorn is at two. How would you like to spend between now and then?” he inquires as he considers making another tea and putting his new cufflinks on. At the same time, he does not want to wear them with this junky suit. He will start wearing the set to work instead, a quiet announcement that he understands even if no one else does.

“We can just relax, I promise I do not require constant entertainment, what would you normally do on a day off?” his lover queries with a smile.

Tilting his head to the side, he shrugs, “I don’t take days off often. Normally when I do it is so I can catch up on sleep or due to a problem with my family that I need to deal with.”

“Well then, let’s go relax on your sofa, chat, and just see where things go, yeah? Days off are supposed to be relaxing, or so my girls tell me on days I run around like a chicken with my head cut off.” The older man suggests.

Nodding, he picks up the tray and carries it over to the counter before getting a pot of tea ready to carry out there with the snacks. “Do you mind tea instead?” He asks, glancing over his shoulder to see the response in case it is a body motion.

Shrugging and smiling, the silver-haired man murmurs, “Either way is good. I’m not really picky, have you seen what they serve at work?”

He cannot stop the low chuckle that escapes his lips as he nods, “True.”

 

Standing and coming over to where he is at, the detective inspector leans in to press their lips together lightly. “Let me get that while you lead us to the sitting area.”

For a moment he considers arguing, he is the host after all, but he decides not to. If carrying it makes his love happy, then that is what he will let happen.

The two of them make their way to the front room with a sofa. Greg settles the tray and sits back after snitching a small sandwich to nibble at. He smiles, pouring each of them teas before settling back on the sofa next to him. They are barely touching from knee to shoulder, but he is unsure what the etiquette for this sort of cuddling is when one partner is snacking. Thankfully, even though they are sitting in silence, it is a comforting kind, allowing him to process the fact he is moving on an emotional level and not just an intellectual one.

Actually he has been doing that a lot lately.

Giving a small shake of his head, he notes that the older man is no longer snacking and scoots just a hair closer only to be pulled lightly flush against his side, one arm looped loosely over his shoulder and gently stroking his arm.

He is embarrassed by the fact he actually drifts off to sleep like that, comfortable against the detective inspector’s side.

The sound of his door bell wakes him, much to his embarrassment. He has one hour before he has to be at the café. Actually he should make arrangements to speak with Sherlock as well. Stretching and standing, he excuses himself before dialing up his brother’s number. It was never turned off, though last he knew the doctor had his phone, of course at the time it had not made sense to him, but that was prior to his joining the pack and learning his brother was still alive.

Sherlock answers on the second ring, “Mycroft?” he sounds a bit surprised and completely focused.

“Good afternoon Sherlock, I was calling to inquire if you were available around two thirty to meet at the café near my flat? I wish to speak with both you and Aragorn at the same time.” He replies, happy his voice does not break because he almost feels like it should. Sherlock is home.

There is a brief pause before his brother comes back on the line, “Of course,” before the line goes dead and he is left holding his phone.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and remembers that his middle brother has always been like that with phones. He prefers to text rather than speaking aloud and always has.

His fiancé notices he is off the phone and walks over to where he is standing, commenting, “I think I am going to head to the house, unless you want me to stick around through your lunch?”

He smiles at the older man, giving a small shake of his head, “I will drive my car there when I am done.” thinking about the fact he has a car, he frowns, because while he rarely drives it, he does prefer to keep it in a garage.

Apparently his detective inspector understands where his mind is going because he states, “Once we get all your stuff out of the garage you can park the car there. I park mine in the driveway, it lets us get up and go without problems.”

Nodding, he agrees with that, commenting, “You realize that there is a chance of someone attempting to damage the car in hopes of harming one of us to hurt me.”

Grinning, the older man answers, “Very small chance of that sort of thing working. Not because the girls are shifters and gifted, but because that is a long time shifter house. Normal humans would be unable to breach the shields if they wanted to cause harm. It is one of the nice things about shifter houses.”

Startled, his eyes widen, “Then how?” he does not complete the question, eyes flickering to the minions who have just entered the room.

Tilting his head towards the front door, the older man turns and starts walking, he quickly falls in step with him and they head out to the car. Once all the movers are out of ear shot, the silver-haired man answers the question, “The pack, well den because they are cobras and vipers, were gathered at their den home when a rogue group of gifted decided to kill them off, along with a group of humans. So they overpowered the protective barrier, and started killing them off in their sleep. Eric survived due to the Shadow Mistress, and became a Tracker but he specialized to unique talents, things few consider usable or normal abilities, including shielding. From my understanding he was a lot scarier prior to meeting John.”

“Interesting,” he murmurs. His thoughts on how dangerous the cobra currently is, and if this is less, then a younger him would have been extremely scary. Blinking he realizes that what he said could be taken wrong, and clarifies, “Not what happened to his family, that he was actually scarier. He is one of the few people I would not like to cross.”

Gently the detective inspector smiles at him, “I understood what you meant.” Stepping closer to him, the older man gives him a light hug, “I’ll see you when you get home love.”

He hugs him back, “Until later.”

“Do you want a ride there?” his fiancé inquires, motioning to the passenger seat.

“No thank you Greg, it is a relatively short walk.” He replies, nodding in the direction of the café.

Nodding once, the older man slides into his car and fires it up, pulling out and heading towards the house.

He goes back within the house to grab his outer jacket and umbrella, and then heads to the café where he is meeting his brothers. The walk there goes smoothly. He considers and plans exactly what he will say to his youngest brother prior to his middle brother showing up. Upon getting to the café, he notes that he is ten minutes early and gets a booth towards the back. The waitress, the same as when he ate here with Greg the previous day, greets him with a smile, inquiring if he wanted his normal to which he nods.

Just as she sets his drink down, his youngest brother enters the café, glancing about and spotting him. With a small smile, the younger man comes striding over, long limbs covering the distance in a few quick steps. A moment later he is sliding into the empty booth, eyes full of curiosity and concern.

“You don’t normally do cafés.” His brother states instead of a standard greeting, sharp eyes sweeping over him.

 

“Gregory has informed me this is politer than demanding a meeting. I would like to,” he pauses, searching for the correct wording, “try to improve our relationship.” Dealing with this sort of thing is far harder than politics, he thinks again.

Shock fills the younger man’s eyes, and they widened ever so slightly as he studies him, probably trying to confirm his words. “That’s unexpected.”

Smiling ruefully, he states, “Life lately has been exceedingly unexpected.”

Tilting his head to the side, he stays quiet and allows his brother to order his drink when the waitress comes back. He stays quiet until she delivers his drink and asks if they need anything else.

Narrowing his eyes, the younger man demands, “Are you dying?”

A dry laugh escapes his throat, “No. Already did that. Some would say that was the beginning of the unexpected.”

“Explain,” his brother quietly orders, “I do not wish to lose another family member.”

Wistfully, he drinks his tea, deciding on what he wants for lunch and waiting to answer as he orders his thoughts. When the waitress returns they both put their food orders in, he gets something moderately light knowing that his fiancé will probably have something made for all of them. It is Wednesday so it will be more of a family dinner with the girls and possibly Aidan. After she takes their orders, he takes another sip and begins to explain.

“March 20th my assistant turned to the alpha of the Watson Pack because I was in the hospital and dying. He agreed to heal me, and had her deliver me to his flat. I woke up the following day feeling far better than I have in years. You can probably imagine my shock when I was invited into the pack by the alpha, otherwise he would not have explained how and why he healed me. I accepted of course,” He pauses to take a drink of his tea, “and that was rather overloading, but did nothing to prepare me for when I joined the entire pack. It was at that time I learned something extremely surprising. Sherlock had not died when he jumped off of Barts. Apparently, the Dusk Daughter,” he hesitates on the name, still having a hard time believing in gods or goddess, “kept him from dying. You can guess I attempted to find him only to be stopped by the black cobra Eric. I believe you know him as Tech, or perhaps Venomous. After joining the pack, Gregory asked if he could court me, and I have spent the months since adapting to being in a pack, and being in a relationship.”

He is happy that his brother let him get all the way through that, because it feels like a release of some sort.

“She would do that,” his brother eventually mutters, “According to Shalen, both the ‘dark’ goddesses are interfering within the limits they have put on themselves. What do you think of the pack? I am sort of surprised you agreed, you like to be in control at all times, and a pack alpha’s word is absolute law.”

“It has been a bit difficult adjusting at times. Apparently our pack is unusual in the fact that John does not really take a hard controlling stance, only interfering when he feels there is a safety issue. Eric is more interfering one and even he tends to stay out of things unless he feels that someone’s actions will cause problems.” He remarks then wonders if he should have kept his mouth shut. At least his brother knows of the packs and their world a bit more than he does. That is useful.

His brother chuckles, head leaning down for a moment before he looks back up. “Cobras are like that, and I have heard a great deal about that cobra. So Sherlock is alive, if the Dusk Daughter is involved then he is hunting, well they’d call it tracking because it is goddess blessed, someone. Do you know when he will be home?”

“I already am, got back two days ago,” the middle brother answers as he slides into the spot next to him, slightly startling him since he had not seen him approach. Besides the shifters in the pack with their ability to vanish from sight, his brother was the only person he had ever known able to sneak up on him so easily.

“Hot chocolate with caramel,” his dark-haired brother requests when the waitress comes back.

“Are you the reason he requested lunch?” the youngest asks once she’s gone.

“Since he requested it of me after you, I do not think so, he honestly wishes to improve relationships. Apparently he has grown a bit since joining the pack, understandable, I know I did when I joined.” Sherlock remarks easily with the kind of smile he cannot remember seeing on his brother’s face very often.

“I went to the pack memorial for you. They are very fond of you.” Aragorn comments with a tilt of his head, “It was good to see, particularly after our childhood and everything that happened then.”

All three are quiet for a time before his middle brother states, “It was very odd when I first joined them, they accepted the fact I was smarter than most and appreciated it. Coming up against Eric who is smarter was unusual, because I could not recall meeting other geniuses outside our family.”

“I do not remember seeing you,” he remarks softly, eyes narrowed as he pulls up his memories of the memorial service.

“I was with Shalen in the back, stayed through the entire thing and was surprised by Mummy’s behavior. She has tried calling me several times since then though I have not answered them yet.” The computer hacker answers, “It was heartbreaking and good all at once.”

“John healed her. Apparently she had a tumor or aneurysm that was pressing on the emotional centers of the brain. She is more like she was prior to your birth now.” He tells the youngest.

“Ah,” both his brothers hum at the same time before sharing a smile.

“Perhaps I will answer the phone then the next time she calls,” Aragorn offers quietly.

He smiles at the younger man, understanding why he is hesitant to do so. When they were children, he had been the favorite, Sherlock had been the problem, and Aragorn had been ignored most the time. The rest of their lunch goes fairly smoothly, as the three of them just sort of feel their way through catching up with each other. It is awkward and nerve wracking, yet it is worth it and he feels like he has accomplished something. Since John Watson entered his family’s life, this is the second time he has sat down and spoken with his brothers.

After lunch, he bids both brothers goodbye, promising to make arrangements with Aragorn to have him and Shalen come over for dinner one night. He does not make arrangements with Sherlock since he knows he will see him sooner than later at a pack function if not for some other reason. Heading back to his place, he checks to see where they are in the moving process, unsurprised to see that they have already moved everything he requested and locked it back up.

Heading to the car and checking to make sure that there is nothing wrong with it before sliding in and driving over to the Lestrade house, which is going to be his home now too. He is a little nervous about moving in with them, but feels like it is the right choice. When he is not working he wants to be with his little family, and that works best is he lives with them. If he needs private time he can always go into his office.

Upon getting home, he parks in the driveway for the moment since the garage is rather full from what he can see. He is unsurprised to see his fiancé moving some of the boxes into the house already, and walks over to join him.

“How was lunch love?” the older man inquires with a smile.

“It was good, a bit awkward at times, but good. I realized how much life has changed since Doctor Watson entered our lives, and I must say I am pleased about those changes.” He answers with a smile in return.

“I’ve got dinner started in the slow cooker, roast with vegetables and spices. It will be done just about dinner time,” his lover tells him as he grabs a box. “I have been setting the boxes in the hall by your office so you can take them in and put them where you want.”

“Thank you, here, let me help.” he replies, grabbing one of the boxes.

They spend the rest of the afternoon moving the boxes and getting him settled, by the time the girls get home they have moved half the boxes and Sofia squeals as she looks them over. All three girls are thrilled he has finally moved in and decided to make his a dessert to celebrate, heading in to do their homework before they do so.


	25. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> So this chapter did not go as planned, particularly since I had originally thought this was going to be their Dawn Awakening and Christmas holidays. Instead this is just a day for them and the next two chapters are the holidays.

_Mycroft's POV_  
On the twentieth of December he is just finishing up his paperwork when Anthea slips silently into the office, a pile of folders in her grasp. 

“Sir?” she inquires with a tilt of her head.

“Yes?” he replies without looking up for more than a momentary glance.

“Aren’t you meeting Greg and the girls?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he answers, “That is why I am trying to finish this. This packet is needed by the twenty-seventh. I wish to be gone for the next six days. That is not possible if I have to deal with paperwork.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as she files the paperwork in her hands into its proper places before coming over to the edge of his desk. “What can I assist with?”

Waving a hand towards the portion he has already completed, he states, “Double check those.”

Nodding, she scoops them up and heads over to the chair by the bookcase in order to do so.  While she does that, he returns to working on the set he is on. He is quite sure that she is not going to find anything he needs to fix, but it never hurts to have a second set of eyes san things when he is speed reading in order to get these done as soon as possible. Over the next hour, they finish up the file so that it can be handed over early.

He almost sighs in relief when he completes the last page of the document.

“Make sure these get to who they need to,” he directs her as he double checks the part on his desk.

“Will do,” she replies. “Will you be celebrating the Dawn Awakening?”

“That is tomorrow night,” he remarks, “Yes, I am supposed to attend with Gregory and the girls. For the first time since I joined the pack John will be leading it.”

His assistant nods, a thoughtful expression on her face, “That is not surprising, whether gifted or shifter, a clan leader will not lead any of the celebrations while in a mourning period, to do so would be disrespectful to the Elder God the celebration is for.”

Both of them rises from their respective seats, two steps allow him to cross the room and hand her the rest of the file which she quickly puts back together in order to hand it in.

“How have you been settling in living with four people?” she inquires with a smile.

He nods as he turns to fetch his coat and umbrella, “It is going smoother than I thought it would. Charlotte makes a point of either being up before me or making something I can eat on the go the night before.  Madeline makes sure I get the quiet I need when I am in the office. Sofia often provides snacks and treats, its hit and miss, but she is a very quick to fix her misses.”

A soft smile curves his PA’s lips, “Sounds like things are going well. I have enjoyed seeing you healthier and happier than I have ever known you to be.” Her voice is soft, a quiet murmur.

The two of them slip out of the office and walk silently down the hall.

When they walk out door, she states, “Have a pleasant season Sir, I hope enjoy your days of celebration.”

He nods once, “Yourself as well.”

She turns and heads back into the building while he continues on to his waiting car. Silently slipping into the back, his mind quickly does a double check of everything he has taken care of that have to be dealt with. Smiling, he relaxes into his seat, and watches out the window as they continue on their way. For the first time since he taken this position he is taking some time off.

“Have a merry Christmas sir,” his driver states as he opens the door when they arrive at the house.

“You as well, enjoy your time off.” He replies as he slips out of the car.

Smiling faintly, his driver nods and gets back into the vehicle before leaving.

He heads into the house, stopping just inside the door to listen to the sounds of his family. From what he can hear, Sofia and Charlotte are in the kitchen together sing while they move around. Since it is just before dinner time they are probably making something. There is soft music from upstairs, making him certain that Madeline is up in her room. He had not seen the car in the driveway so his Gregory must still be gone. Moments later that is confirmed by the youngest girl.

“Hullo Mycroft! Daddy is on his way home, he had to wrap up a case and get the paperwork out of the way.” She happily exclaims as she emerges from the kitchen. He is mildly surprised she is not speaking in French considering that is the language she uses with him the most.

He nods, “Hello Sofia, having a pleasant evening so far?”

Beaming, she nods energetically, “I am, Chare and I are nearly done with dinner. I have also made a few treats to take with us tomorrow for the Dawn Awakening. I am also going to make some treats to take with us to both sets of grandparents homes.” She tilts her head to the side, “We have not decided yet if we want to see Grandmum and Grandfather Reeves want us to visit, but we are not sure we really want to go since they do not want Daddy to come with us.”

His eyes narrow as he considers that, the Reeves are the girl’s biological grandparents on their mother’s side, even though their mother has lost all rights do they still retain rights within the pack?

“No, the moment her rights to us were terminated and Daddy became our only parent so were theirs,” the dark-haired middle daughter answers as she comes sweeping down the steps. “I checked with Eric because I do not personally like the Reeves and how they allowed her to treat Daddy. As full shifters they could smell the differences between Daddy and us, by law they should have turned her in to the council or a tracker, they did not, so their punishment is the loss of rights to us.” her expression softens as she switches to a greeting, “Hello Mycroft.”

“Madeline,” he replies warmly.

He is a little surprised that she answered his unspoken question aloud when she normally prefers telepathy, but a single glance at Sofia tells him why.

“Personally I say we send them a card with a picture and call that good enough,” the eldest says as she emerges from the dining room door. “Daddy has asked us not to write them off, however writing them off sounds like a brilliant idea. We went to see them last Christmas and it was miserable.”

The mischievous look that crosses the youngest face makes him wary as she inquires, “As a diplomat and politician, would it be considered rude to send a small gift and a sorry we missed you there were other plans rearranged?”

He understands perfectly well where she is going with this and has to fight to keep the smirk off his face, “Depending on the wording, no, it can be completely polite.”

She beams at him, “Brilliant! Be right back!” turning, the blonde girl spins and dashes up the steps while her sisters and him watch.

“I’m going to put my things away,” he remarks to the other two girls.

“Okay, come to the dining room when you’re done,” the eldest comments as she spins and heads back into the dining area.

The middle girl nods, heading into the kitchen and dining room as well.

He heads to his office, putting away his traveling things away before exiting the well furnished room. It still surprises him how much effort the girls had put into designing it for him, particularly since it was early in his relationship with their father. He also appreciates the fact that is his area where the others stay out unless asked in.

In the dining area he finds the table already set and the girls moving the food to the table.

Coming down the steps, Sofia has a few pieces of paper in her hand, and the mischievous smile still in place.

“Would any of these work?” She inquires as she offers the papers. Energy and excitement is just about bristling from her.

He quickly glances over them before tilting his head and suggesting, “Combined the third and fourth, but leave out how you are going to be busy.”

She nods, taking them and bolting back up the spiral steps.

“Hurry up Sofia! Dinner is done!” Chare calls out.

He doesn’t hear her response but that is not surprising.

Taking his normal seat, he stays out of the girl’s way and is waiting for the girls to sit down when he hears a car pull into the driveway. He smiles, considers getting up but watches the fact the girls all take their seats and decides not to. Despite the fact he has been living with them for sixteen days, he is still adjusting to their habits and patterns, and figuring out where he fits in.

Despite the girl’s best efforts, his erratic schedule means he has not settled as much as he wants though they are attempting to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

A minute later the detective inspector is in the house and sliding into his spot beside him.

Smiling at him, the older man presses a quick kiss to his cheek before greets them, “Hullo Mycroft, girls.”

“Hi Daddy,” all three girls chorus together.

His love chuckles, glancing about and shaking his head slightly, “I see someone is on a cooking binge. Sofia made all of the treats and Chare made dinner?”

“Yep!” the little blonde chirps, “There is still going to be more too.  I am making treats for the pack meeting tomorrow, some to take with us to the Lestrade family Christmas, for meeting Mycroft and Uncle Sherlock’s family, and for Christmas at home. Plus I made a box,” she motions to the one on the end of the counter, “to send to the Reeves so we do not have to go see them.”

Beside him, the older man sits quietly and listens before nodding once, “You three have discussed this?”

“Yes,” they chorus again.

“Okay, well we’ll get a messenger to deliver it,” his lover agrees calmly.

“Or,” that mischievous look is back in the youngest girl’s eyes, “We could see if one of Mycroft’s minions can deliver it so they get the impression it has to do with the human side of our family and they don’t try badgering us.”  She turns to look at him, “Is there a minion I could possibly borrow for errand boy?”

He cannot stop the laughter that bubbles forth. She’s the only person he knows of who would use a member of the British Government as an errand run to avoid going to family dinner who is not actually in the government.

“There is,” he eventually answers.

She beams at him before setting to making her plate.

“So what did you make to send to the Reeves?” His fiancé inquires as he makes his own plate.

“A pumpkin cake roll with cream cheese filling, red velvet fairy-cakes with buttercream frosting, triple ginger biscuits, applesauce bars, and raspberry thumbprints with drizzled glaze,” she promptly answers.

Tilting her head she mentions, “The ginger biscuits might be a little harder than they are supposed to be, but it was a new one for me and I am not sending them the best ones.”

He doesn’t bother biting back his smile at that.

“Well then,” Greg chuckles, “I’m betting you even have a note already.”

“Yep!” she happily exclaims, “I even had Mycroft check to make sure it was polite.”

Grinning, his love gives another shake of his head, “Only you, Sofia, only you.”

She beams at him.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, they talk about how the end of their days. Sofia is rather animated about getting to share her holiday with the family and getting to bake so much. Madeline discusses her assignments and the books she has been studying lately. Chare is happy because they are spending time as a family. Gregory summarizes his day, happily announcing another problem gone. He mentions that he finished all of his paperwork that had to be done, and had the next for days to himself barring any emergencies.

After dinner the five of them retreat to the living room where he curls up on the sofa with Gregory, their bodies pressed close together while Madeline takes the chair by the lamp, Charlotte the other chair, and Sofia stretches out on the floor in front of the sofa. They watch various Christmas themed movies, each taking a turn picking until Sofia falls asleep on the floor, and Chare sleepily heads up to her room. Carefully his love scoops their youngest girl, carrying her up to her bedroom and tucking her into bed.

Heading into the loo, he uses it before continuing through to their room. Now there is a phrase he is still adapting to, he has never shared a room prior to moving in, and he has enjoyed the experience so far.

Changing out of his suit and into a pair of pajamas, he settles on the top of the bed, glancing about and taking pleasure in the simple colors and design of the room. They have discussed getting another dresser or maybe an armoire with drawers on the bottom. Gregory does not have a lot of things that must be hung in the closet but he does.

“You’re looking rather thoughtful love,” his silvery-haired loved murmurs as he closes the bathroom door between the bedrooms.

“Just considering all of the differences between living alone compared to living here.” He answers softly.

The older man nods, stripping out of his work clothes which are tossed into the laundry basket before he stretches out beside him on the bed wearing nothing but his pants.

“I’m happy you’re here,” his love states quietly.

“So am I,” he replies.

Softly, Gregory presses her lips against his temple, murmuring, “We should get some rest because the next three days are going to be crazy.”

He nods once, turning his body and tilting his head so he could lightly press their lips together, “Sounds good.”

Both of them get off the bed, turn off their respective lights, and crawl under the blankets. He soon finds himself curled against his lover’s chest, his long legs intertwined with his Gregory, arms curled around him. It’s both odd and exhilarating to be the one being held. They are both quiet as they lay there and slowly drift off to sleep.


	26. Dawn Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!

Greg's POV  
Despite his best efforts to sleep in, his eyes snap open just after seven am. Already he can just barely make out the noises of his youngest and oldest up and about.

Sofia's more like Mycroft than she was him. She had always been the odd one of the family's pups. When Crystal still lived with them she used to treat their youngest like a freak for not liking most foods, rarely eating a lot, studying all the time, not having very good social graces, being too intelligent, learning too quickly, requiring less sleep, and being too quiet. Now that he can see her with Mycroft, it makes a great deal more sense to him.

He was happy that Crystal was gone never to return and that they had Mycroft now.

Lightly pressing his lips to his lover's forehead, he carefully slips out of his arms and heads into the bathroom to take a quick shower. When he is done, he wraps the towel around his hips and enters his bedroom to find his mate still asleep so he quietly gets pants and pajama bottoms on before slipping back into the bathroom to hang the towel up.

Going through Sofia's room, he heads downstairs to the kitchen to discover that his only daughter up so far is his youngest.

"Morning Sofia," he greets her as he pauses beside where she is measuring things out to give her a quick hug.

With the hand holding the measuring cup she hugs him back, "Morning Daddy," she replies, "I am working on getting the biscuits ready for tonight."

He nods, "All right. Would you like any help?" He inquires even though the kitchen is extremely hot right now.

She smiles at him wistfully, "It's alright Daddy, I know it's hotter in here than you like."

Heading to the fridge to see what is there for an easy breakfast, he comments, "That's not a yes or no Sofia."

"I'd enjoy it," she responds quietly.

Even after two years there are still times he sees her reacting as she would have back then.

"Well let me find something to eat, then I will be more than willing to help." He tells her with a warm smile.

"There is banana, banana nut, banana raisin, banana nut raisin, spiced butternut squash, cinnamon, cranberry nut, and blueberry bread in the island cupboard closest to the fridge. Most of them were made last week during class, but I made the blueberry last night." Sofia suggests as she goes back to measuring ingredients.

Closing the fridge door, he checks the small cupboards under the island, finding the breads she listed along a loaf of white bread and one of wheat bread. There are also several different Tupperware containers full of biscuits.

"Microwave or toaster to heat the bread up?" he inquires as he pulls the breads marked banana and cranberry nut out. The banana bread looks barely touched and the cranberry nut bread just looks tasty.

"With thick slices shove them in the toaster oven for thirty seconds at 250 degrees," she answers as she continues with what she is doing, her tone a bit distracted.

"Okay," he replies, accepting the instructions and fetching his supplies that he needs.

The two of them work in companionable silence as he cuts the bread and places it on the heating plate while she continues to mix whatever she is currently making. He remains quiet while it is heating and when putting the butter on it. It's nice to just spend time together like this. Once his food is done, he settles onto one of the four stools closest to the dining room and nibbles at the bread.

"This banana bread is good," he declares as he finishes the first piece. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Thanks!" She happily exclaims, before pausing in her movement to consider it for a moment before querying, "Does testing the biscuits count?"

Dropping his head, he smiles at his plate, replying, "We'll count it for today, how's that sound love?"

She turns to smile at him, hands covered in flour, "Thank you," she softly states.

Finishing his bread, he stands, and moves over to the sink before walking over to his little girl to give her a hug. "Always Sofia," he murmurs against the top of her head. They both know he is not speaking of food only.

She hugs him back, head resting against his chest for a long moment. Letting go, she steps back and turns look over what she was doing.

"So how can I help?" he inquires as he washes his hands in preparation.

"I need the baking sheets out of the dishwasher," she answers, "and some of the shape cutters."

Nodding, he opens the dishwasher next to the sink and pulls the four baking sheets out. There are no cutters in the dishwasher so he thinks of which drawer they are stored in. He cannot stop chuckling when he spots exactly how many different types there are.

"Metal, rubber, or plastic?" He inquires as he studies all the options.

"Which ever," she answers as she grabs a rolling pin and starts evening out the batter.

Looking over the options, he decides to pick out all of the Christmas related one no matter what material they are made out of. The end result is more than thirty different cutters, including a few that add texture along with shape to the biscuit.

"I don't remember us having all of these," he queries with a tilt of his head.

"Various cousins have given them to me. My baking instructor gave me some of her older ones when she purchased new sets. I found some at a second-hand store when out with Aunt Penny a while back," she answers as she waits for him to bring them over.

Grinning, he sets them next to her on the counter, "Didn't realize."

"You can shape that batter," she motions to the rolled out biscuit mix to her left, "and I will shape this batter. With the cutters, use a little bit of flour on the edges to make the cuts cleaner. Then put the resulting biscuits on your baking sheet."

Nodding, he sets to working on his biscuits. The two of them are still cutting biscuits when Madeline comes down stairs a bit later.

"Morning Madeline," he greets the middle girl with a smile as he finishes his last one.

"Morning," she replies quietly as she makes herself a bowl of cereal. "Would you like some help with those?" she asks as she walks over to the table, "When I am done eating."

"Sure! Daddy and I can get a few more ready while you eat!" his youngest excitedly answers, her hands already reaching for the supplies before she even stops to consider asking if he wants to help still. As soon as she realizes that, she freezes in place.

Smiling, he tells her before she has a chance to ask, "Of course I will help, its Christmas time, and I have the next few days off just so I can spend time with my family."

Both of his daughters smile, then his youngest ask, "You are going to spend time with Mycroft right?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I will be spending time with Mycroft, and he is going to spend time with us, and Chare will probably have Aidan over to spend time with us as well." He answers with a smile at his youngest.

"Good! Now back to baking," she declares and returns to what she was doing.

Chuckling, he waits for instructions because it is her project and he is just helping out. She doesn't ask for any assistance until she has everything ready and he almost wonders if she is done with him. Then she sets another set of baking sheets in front of him and smiles.

"There, more biscuits please," she tells him as she starts working on cutting her own.

Grinning, he tries to make sure he has an even number of each type before laying them out on the baking sheet. "We have two ovens but this is way more biscuits than will fit in them." He remarks curiously.

"We're not using the oven." Sofia replies energetically, "Madeline is going to bake them."

He blinks, remembering that the girls have done that a few times but he has not seen it because of work. "Okay," he agrees.

Beaming, his youngest daughter turns to watch her black-haired sister with excited eyes as she finishes up her breakfast by rinsing the bowl and spoon to put in the dishwasher.

Coming to stand in the middle of the kitchen, his middle daughter looks at the baking sheets before commenting, "Move them closer please."

"Alrighty!" the excitable blonde agrees as she bounces around, putting the baking sheets into a few neat rows that are directly to either side of Madeline and have the same amount in each room. "Ready?"

He watches with interest as his middle daughter glances about and nods, "Ready."

"Come on," Sofia states grabbing his arm and tugging him to the other side of the island so Madeline is the only one in the kitchen section. "Watch, she's _amazing_."

"Okay," he tells her as he keeps an eye on her sister.

Slender hands press together so her finger tips touch her wrists, slowly she drags them apart, her fingers forming a ball for a moment before they brush against each other, he sees the sparks flickering around her hands and hears a low crackling in the air. Just as slowly she spreads her hands before motioning to the baking sheets on either side of herself, intense focus filling her eyes. He can just about feel the air heat up and dry out before she starts to pull them back together, moving her hands opposite of what she had done to begin with.

 _Check them Sofia_ , he hears her mind voice remark as she holds still.

Nodding, the younger girl bounds over to each baking sheet, carefully looking at each before declaring, "They're done!" She then skips to the fridge, pulling a cold bottle of water out before returning to her sister, "Here you go! Thank you Madeline!"

Madeline relaxes and the slight crackling vanishes as she accepts the water, _Thank you._

"Now we wait for them to cool off a bit to decorate them, morning Mycroft!" his excitable girl exclaims happily as she starts cleaning things up. "There will be more to make, but have to wait a bit. We discovered that having Madeline cool them is not a good thing, best to let them cool naturally."

Turning, he spots his love standing just inside the door to the dining room, his eyes on the dark-haired girl currently drinking the water.

"That was quite remarkable," the politician states after a long moment, clearing his throat and trying not to blush according to the way his skin turns pink.

Flushing, Madeline finishes her water before answering, "Thank you," and ducking her head, "I still need a lot of practice."

"There is lots of Christmas and holiday baking left to do so you're more than welcome to bake them for me once I have them made," his youngest informs her sister seriously, "Lots and lots to make, including some cakes, fairy cakes, more biscuits, muffins, and possibly a casserole."

Both of his daughters giggle at each other while he walks over to Mycroft to give the younger man a hug good morning and a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Enjoy the show?" he inquires as he lightly pushes him towards a seat, knowing one of the girls would bring his to-be-mate breakfast without either of them having to ask.

Smiling, the auburn-haired man replies, "Indeed. It was quite remarkable." Turning towards Madeline, he questions, "Was that lightning you were using to bake the biscuits?"

 _Superheated lightning,_ she replies as she carries a plate with bagel smothered in cream cheese and mixed berry jam over, _I tried straight fire and they were too burnt to be any good, I tried regular lightning and it was not warm enough to fully cook them, so I sort of mixed them. Accidently burnt the counter too, but was able to fix it. Also burned Chare that time but she managed to heal it._

"I assume it takes a lot of practice to get to the point you are at?" Mycroft inquires after finishing the first half of his bagel.

She nods, explaining, _When I started I could barely heat water, but I am getting better at it. Fire and heat are the hardest for me to control, according to Uncle Eric that is from being tied closer to water and air than earth and fire._

He smiles at his daughter, having watched her come out of her shell over the last year though there are still a few things that she was self-conscious about such as that lisp that gets worse when she is tired or nervous.

Where Sofia had been treated as a freak, Madeline had been treated as an inconvenience because she both stuttered and had a lisp. She had outgrown the stuttering. Well that's what most believes anyways. In truth Crystal had pushed her and forced her to keep speaking until she could clearly pronounce words without the stutter. Crystal had been trying to force her to pronounce words her lisp messed with clearly too but the harder she pushed the worse it got until she finally gave up. He is pretty sure that her preference for sign language and telepathy comes from remembering how much the woman who was supposed to love her unconditionally had not and had bullied her. Her stuttering and lisp had never bothered him, but had caused several fights between himself and Crystal over Crystal's behavior towards their middle daughter.

 _It's alright Daddy, I know you never thought there was something wrong with me,_ he hears the dark-haired gifted girl whisper in his head. Since the other two are having a conversation he is pretty sure she is speaking to him only.

 _It still bothers me sweetheart, she was supposed to support you, not act the way she did._ He replies, knowing she will pick up on what he wants to say.

She smiles at him, before rejoining the conversation between Sofia and Mycroft about all the baking the girls have been doing.

"You made biscuits without me," his oldest whines as she comes trotting down the spiral stairs.

"Not our fault you slept in!" exclaims his youngest excitedly, "Daddy helped! Hey! All five of us can decorate and work on the next batch!"

"That's a great idea," Chare agrees looking at Mycroft hopefully.

The girls already know he is game for baking with them, particularly if Madeline can reduce how much heat is in this kitchen area.

 _We would need to use the ovens instead of me superheating them,_ his middle daughter offers, _that way I can keep things from getting too hot._

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Sofia states bouncing happily in her seat, her natural energy showing itself in her every movement.

All three of his daughters are watching his lover with hopeful eyes, though none of them want to ask outright. Mycroft might not be Crystal but they were still figuring out the differences between them, where the boundaries are at, and what he is willing to do or not.

Smiling lightly, the politician nods once, "I would enjoy baking with you ladies," he graciously answers the unspoken question.

"And Daddy, don' forget Daddy!" Sofia tells him happily before bouncing out of her seat to go check the biscuits. "They're ready to decorate and frost!" she declares happily.

He nods, happy to see his daughter so excited but wishing she would stop exclaiming things so much because her voice gets very shrill. However he will not ask her to quiet down because he is happy to see her in such a good mood, he can always take something for the headache later.

"Is she always this excitable?" Mycroft murmurs into his ear as the auburn-haired man watches his youngest collect all of the things she thinks are needed to decorate the biscuits including a variety of types of homemade frostings, a variety of candies, and dips to coat them in.

"Yes and no?" he replies before quietly explaining, "She normally tries to hide it or burn it off with a variety of activities so that she doesn't 'bother people'."

The younger man's eyes get cold for a moment before he nods, "I understand."

He is pretty certain that the genius does understand, and probably went through something similar or his brother's had.

"Then let's keep her excited," his love suggests as the coldness leaves his eyes.

They share a smile just before his daughter announces everything is ready for decorating. There are several different paper plates with large bags sitting under them, allowing him to understand how she plans to transport all of them.

The next several hours until lunch time are spent with the five of them working in the kitchen and dining room to decorate, make more, and package the various biscuits, fairy cakes, and cakes. Just before noon, Chare breaks off to make lunch while they finish up.

It reminds that his oldest is a caregiver by nature and because that had been her role when Crystal was around. His eldest had been born before the anger and fighting had started, before the problems had come to a head to cause issues for the family, before Crystal had started stepping out on him. Of the three girls, Chare was probably the only one to have more positive memories than negative ones of Crystal however that doesn't lessen the effect of the bad time that followed. She had started caring for her sisters when Sofia was two and already showing signs of being different because she picked things up far faster than other toddlers did.

"We just used most of the baking supplies that we picked up," Mycroft states, his tone somewhere between impressed and shocked as he stares at all the goodies scattered on the counter around the room.

"Yep! Most of them will go with us to the pack meeting tonight, and there are those for the Lestrade family Christmas dinner, and some to give to friends, and I always make some for Daddy's co-workers, plus those," she point to a fairly diverse pile, "is for if you wish to give any of your co-works some. The rest are for us!" She tilts her head to the side as she inquires seriously, "Were we borrowing a minion to send those treats and card to the Reeves?"

"Indeed, let me summon one, and we will take care of that now." His lover answers gravely but with a smile in his eyes that lets him know he is playing along with her.

"Great!" she fetches a card and pen, having everyone sign it before putting it in its envelope and attaching it to the top of the treat box for those particular relatives.

"Lunch is done," Chare announces as she sets several plates and bowls on the table. It is all light foods such as sandwiches and salads.

"Thanks Chare," he tells the oldest girl as the other two choruses, "Thank you!"

The five of them sit down to eat, continuing with the same easy companionship the morning was spent in. It is nice.

When the 'minion' shows up, Mycroft allows him into the house in order to receive his instructions from Sofia, who is very serious and solemn as she gives them, before handing him a biscuit to eat on the go. His love also has the young man deliver the biscuits made for his co-works to the office for any who are working over the holidays. The subordinate is startled and looks to Mycroft for confirmation about the biscuits before smiling thankfully at his youngest daughter and accepting them.

Once the young subordinate is gone, his lover turns to his youngest child and states, "You are going to be a favorite in the office with the way you bake."

She beams at him, a playful smile that promises she will be doing more baking with that in mind. "That's all right. I wish to try for MI6 when I get older, might as well make friends now." Her tone is bright and distracted as she cleans up from lunch.

He shares a look with his love, wondering if they need to be concerned over her choices and hoping that she outgrows them. Something warns him that is not going to happen however. He should probably make sure that she gets training with John, Sherlock, and Eric incase she does decided to follow that train of thought.

Between lunch and dinner, they play board games in the living room together. Sofia wins three of the games, Madeline one, and Mycroft three.

Just before dinner time, the girls go and take showers and get dressed, Sofia chooses to use the downstairs shower rather than the upstairs one so they can use that shower. Since they have been baking and playing games all day, he talks his love into taking a quick shared shower, though the politician blushes all the way to the bathroom.

He starts with slowly and carefully washing his Mycroft's hair, his fingers carefully working through the short auburn hair and over his scalp. When he done washing his love's hair, he takes his time washing his lover's body, his hands slowly gliding over the firm muscles and the layer of chub covering those muscles.

"If we had more time I would tease you until you were a gasping mess love," he murmurs as his hands swipe over Mycroft's body, "Then I'd lay you on the bed and continue to do so until you were coming, leaving you relaxed and sleepily."

Gasping, his lover arches into his hands, groaning out his name.

"But we don't have time, so I will just leave you for now thinking about it," he murmurs as he strokes over him one last time before stepping back.

"Tease," the auburn-haired politician mutters as he steps under the water.

"I can be, though I prefer to think of it more as giving you something to think about for tonight when we get home." He replies with a smirk before quickly washing himself.

Stormy eyes narrow at him, "We're going to be around a lot of shapeshifters who can smell the fact we're aroused."

Grinning mischievously, he presses several little feathery kisses against his love's freckled shoulder, "Good."

Shaking his head, Mycroft grumbles, "Tease."

He just smirks in response before rinsing off and turning the water off.

Grabbing the towels, he passes the first to his mate, and then uses the second to dry himself off. When they are dry, they slip into their room to get dressed. Just before his lover buttons up his shirt, he lightly pushes the taller man against the mirror of the closet and kisses him senseless. He grins when long fingers grip his hips pressing the two of them close together. Several long minutes pass as they press against the mirror kissing and holding each other.

"Daddy! Stop snogging Mycroft and get dressed! It's time we get going!" his youngest yells through the door of their bedroom.

Again his mate turns a lovely shade of pink but gently kisses him, murmuring against his lips, "I expect fulfillment when we get home."

Home. What a sweet word coming from his mate. That's what Mycroft is, his mate. While it is true that they have not yet formally bonded, and there is always a chance that the bonding will not take between a human and a jackal-child, however he is certain that Mycroft is his. Even if the bonding does not take, it will change nothing, they will still be married and together.

"That's a promise," he whispers, kissing him one more time before stepping back to finish getting dressed.

Less than five minutes later the five of them are in Mycroft's car since it is bigger than his. The boot is full of the treats and goodies that were made between this morning and the previous one. He is certain that if he could smell emotions the way his girl's do, the scent would be one of pleasure and happiness. Today has been a good day all around for all of them, spent together in a pleasant manner.

It does not take them long to reach the pack home where the girls enlist some of teenage shifters to help get all of the treats inside. There is even a little bit of friendly ribbing between them.

"You make rest of us look bad," Xia teases as she picks up a cake.

Grinning, Sofia replies, "Nah, I give you all a new goal to try for!"

Both girls giggle before his youngest remarks excitedly, "Besides I had lots of help, it was a family day!"

"Oh, those are fun!" the monkey exclaims happily as the two of them walk into the house with the last of the food.

He chuckles as he watches the two girls head inside. Even though Xia is seven years older than his daughter, she is smaller in frame and height.

"She's going to be tall," Mycroft remarks as he watches them.

"Yeah, considering some of the Reeves' are on the tall side it's not surprising," he replies with a small shrug, he refuses to consider the fact her biological father might be on the tall side, as far as he cares, she is his, no questions asked.

His love nods, saying nothing.

As they get closer to the house, the sounds of the families and people already inside flows out. It is the sound of a happy, prosperous pack. Living among jackals had never been this pleasant, they did not have the same amount of closeness among the pack, only the families.

When they get inside the house, he notes that there is only half the pack so far, though it is still fairly early so there is a chance the rest of them will be there in a bit before the actual celebration.

"Shall we get dinner?" he inquires as he motions to the buffet laid out.

Nodding, his lover's eyes sweep over everyone. He is moderately certain that he is searching for his brother, but he is not here yet from what he can tell. They had already decided to request bonding in January, leaving this month as a way to get used to having Sherlock back and adapting to living together.

"They'll probably join us when they get here," he comments as they walk over to the buffet.

Mycroft merely nods, picking up a plate and eyeing the options.

Leaning close, he breathes into the auburn-haired man's ear, "Eat what makes you happy Mycroft, you look fine."

Flushing, the younger man nods slightly, barely a twitch but enough that he recognizes it for the agreement that he is seeking.

The two of them make their plates before heading to their normal table and sitting down, the girls, cobras, and the Arden's all join them. Their group visits with each other and eats, most getting seconds.

 _According to tradition you need to ask permission to bond, however I am certain you are old enough to know whether you want to bond or not,_ Eric's voice ghosts through his mind, _I am moderately certain that when you ask John he will say yes as well._

Smiling at his plate, he answers, _I was planning on checking with you next month during the full moon meeting._

 _Might as well get it out of the way now, at least for me, I have other things I would prefer to be concentrating on._ The cobra replies with a mental shrug.

He grins and nods, well that takes care of that part.

Not long after that John and Sherlock show up, get a plate of food, and settle into the empty chairs at the table.

"Hey mates," John greets them with a warm smile.

"Hullo John," he replies at the same time as the rest of them greet their alpha.

The conversation continues on, the brothers speaking quietly with each other while he visits with John. He is not shocked when he hears John's voice in his head.

 _Eric says you plan to inquire about formally bonding in a few weeks,_ the alpha remarks.

 _Yes,_ he replies, _I was not sure if the customs among a wolf pack are the same as they are within a jackal pack._

Smiling, the doctor answers, _Similar enough. You know there is a chance that the Old Gods will not bless it, and you will just have a bonding-marriage yeah?_

 _Of course, I'm a jackal-child and he is a human, but I still wish to try,_ he replies.

 _Well you tell me when, and I will make sure to have Eric remind me of the customs and ritual that goes with it,_ John tells him with a huge mental smile, _I'm happy for you. I might not always get along with your chosen mate, but the two of you work well together. Now then, I need to clean up our plate and get this show on the road since we're getting close to time. I will leave it to you to inform Mycroft._

 _Thank you John,_ he responds gratefully, happy that things are going smoother than planned.

 _We all deserve happy endings I think, though he's a pain in the ass so I do not know exactly how happy an ending it will be,_ there is amusement in the wolf's voice as he stands and collects up his dishes before heading to the front to call order to the meeting.

Several minutes are briefly spent with John giving a very big generalization of why his mate had been gone. Like any good wolf pack however, the alphas words are not challenged or questioned, that is just not how packs work. He can see Mycroft processing everything that is said and wishing to question it according to the expression in his gray eyes. The politician doesn't ask those questions, though he is sure that they will be asked sometime in the near future.

Once they are done with the discussion part of the meeting, the pack files out to the old ring of trees where everyone takes their place. As the moon rises John speaks, his voice strong and serious as he does so. The sky lights up far more than he has ever seen it and he can feel the energy pooling around them. Warmth unlike any he has felt seems to curl around him and the others, his mate's eyes going wide yet vacant as if he is not actually within himself. A moment later, he sways slightly, coming back into himself.

When the light show fades, there are a lot of pack members staring in shock at the sky and those around them. It was far more vibrant than any of the celebrations where someone other than John lead, even the ones with Eric do not compare and those were lit up quite nicely too.

"Let's go home," he suggests to his little family, arm wrapping around his mate who seems to still be swaying slightly.

"Sounds good," Chare replies after giving Aidan a quick kiss on the cheek.

The five of them bid everyone a good night before heading to their vehicle. He drives since Mycroft seems to still be a little zoned out. Upon getting home, everyone heads to their respective rooms after bidding each other goodnight.

In their room, he takes his time slowly undressing his mate before laying him on the bed and tucking him in.

"We have time love, get some rest," he reassures his love when he starts to apologize for being sleepy.

Quickly stripping, he climbs into bed with his love, gently pressing his lips to his forehead before going to sleep himself.


	27. Christmas Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Lots of thanks to NoOrdinarySouthernGirl for all of her help

Greg’s POV  
When he wakes up it is to the smell of more baking, though it is not biscuits, more like cake.

Sofia must be up already then, he thinks as he glances at the clock on his desk.

5:02 AM it reads, making him groan and snuggle closer to his intended. Of course his bladder has to disagree with that idea, with another groan he gets out of bed and heads to the loo.

When he crawls back into bed, Mycroft is waking up, his eyes sleepy but alert, meaning the younger man will not be falling back to sleep. That’s alright, they never did get to finish the night before, so now would be a wonderful time to do so. Smiling, he leans in to kiss him, pressing their lips softly together in feathery little kisses.

“Mornin’ luv,” he murmurs against the auburn-haired man’s lips, “I believe we have somethin’ to finish?”

“Good morning Greg,” his lover replies in a sleep roughened voice before leaning in to press their lips back together, “We do indeed.”

They take their time undressing each other, hands lightly caressing the other’s body as they fulfill the previous night’s promise. He makes his love forget all about his embarrassment over the fact the girls will be able to smell their activities. Instead they spend a pleasant morning in bed together, not leaving it until he has to use the bathroom again. Afterwards they head downstairs to discover all three girls in the process of making breakfast and packaging more goodies.

“The plan is to see our Holmes family members at their home here in London first right?” Sofia queries as she glances up from what she is doing.

Beside him, Mycroft blinks once in confusion, apparently started by that news.

Frowning, his youngest stops moving to study the politician, “Ann was supposed to tell you. The arrangements were made last Thursday.”

There is silence in the kitchen as his daughter waits, they had discussed the fact Sofia was making treats for ‘Mycroft and Sherlock’s family’ the previous day, some reason that did not translate over to ‘we are paying them a visit’.

“She mentioned it, I must apologize for not paying better attention because I was focused on the meeting I had just concluded.” The auburn-haired man eventually states. Smiling sheepishly, he continues, “You even mentioned it when I got home from work.”

She relaxes, smiling and nodding before returning to what she doing.

He settles on a chair, his love settling beside him.

“Since none of us manage to sleep past nine am, I figured I would make breakfast for us, though it is on the light side so if Mrs. Holmes wants us to eat lunch with them we can,” his oldest announces as his middle daughter sets the table.

Chuckling, he nods, reaching over to squeeze his love’s hand.

A moment later the girls are bringing the food over to the table, setting it out and sitting in their seats. The five of them have a comfortable breakfast, there is chatting and teasing, quiet joy filling the air with laughter and smiles.By the time breakfast is done everyone is in a good mood.

Standing, his youngest playfully queries, “You do remember we are going to Grandmum and Granddad Lestrade’s home for Christmas dinner tonight right?”

Smiling ruefully, his love responds solemnly, “I do indeed. If I recall, there is a pile of presents in the boot of the car for all of the relatives that are supposed to be there.”

Beaming, she nods before heading upstairs without saying anything else.

Shaking her head, his eldest mutters about inconsiderate sisters not helping with the clean up, but there is no heat behind it.

His middle daughter chuckles, focusing on the dishes and carefully moving them one at a time to the sink, causing chare to burst out laughing.

“Will we be driving ourselves or summoning a driver?” Mycroft inquires as he glances between him and the girls working on the dishes.

“I’ll be driving, your charming PA provided me with the address so I could GPS it.” He replies lightly as he watches his daughters play around while continuing with the dishes.

“All right,” the politician answers, smiling at him.

The two of them sit in silence, watching the two girls. When Chare brings them fresh cups of steaming hot tea and coffee, they both murmur their thanks before taking a sip and enjoying the flavors. Not long after that, his middle and eldest daughter settle back into their seats with hot chocolates of their own.

“Last Christmas was good, this one will be better,” his raven-haired daughter remarks.

Smiling warmly at her, “Indeed,” he agrees, “It should go far smoother than last years.”

“We should get going here shortly,” his youngest announces as she comes down the steps with a Christmas gift bag in her hand. “I’ve got the Christmas cards for all of us to sign.”

“Well let’s get to it,” Chare suggests, “I’ll grab a pen.”

Happily, the youngest empties the bag out on the table, revealing that there are a bunch of handmade Christmas cards, each in a colorful and decorated envelope with the relative or family names on the front of it. A moment later his eldest sets down a few pens, selecting a card to begin the signing process. For the next few minutes the four of them sign while his youngest watches. As each card is signed by all of them, Sofia tucks them back into their envelope and shoves them into the bag until all of them are signed.

“Perfect timing!” Sofia happily announces as she tucks the last one way, “Let’s go!” Without waiting for them, she fetches her coat before heading out to the car.

He smiles after his daughter, shaking his head and standing up. The rest of them put their cups into the sink before fetching their coats as well and meeting Sofia in the car. She is seated in the back, bouncing excitedly as she waits for them. Somewhere along the way she had put all of the treats and goodies made into the car. Still smiling, he slides into the driver’s seat, while the girls fit themselves in the back and Mycroft settles into the passenger seat.

“I can direct you where to go,” his love states when he tugs his phone out.

Nodding, he tucks it back away, before pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. Quiet music plays and the only conversation is that of Mycroft giving him instructions on how to get there. They arrive three minutes, a mild shock considering the fact he had forgotten to add extra time for traffic. Before they have even gotten out of the car, Mrs. Holmes had thrown the door open and stepped outside, a huge smile lighting up her face.

“Mykie!” She happily exclaims as the car doors open, “You brought your family!”

He watches as as Mycroft flinches, replying, “Could you possibly see your way to finishing the name you gave me?”

He bites back a smile, understanding that his lover is not fond of most nicknames and shortened versions of his name.

She waves that off, coming down the steps to hug him, soundly kissing her son on both of his cheeks before hugging him again. Her attention then turns to him, and he finds himself being hugged as well.

“You must be his Greg! Welcome, welcome! Come in, come in, there’s tea, hot chocolate, and biscuits.” She tells him before hugging him again.

Her attention then turns to his daughters, starting with Chare and hugging each of them in turn, though Madeline breaks the contact and steps back before Mrs. Holmes expects it according to her expression.

“We brought a cake and some biscuits,” Sofia offers when she is done hugging her, “They’re in the car.”

“Really?”

“Yep, we baked them yesterday,” his youngest answers happily.

Beaming, the older woman suggests, “Grab them and let’s get inside where it is warmer.”

“Okay,” the blonde chirps, grabbing them out of the car and closing the door behind her.

The six of them head inside where they are met by an older gentlemen who is very similar to Mycroft. Instead of excitedly hugging them all, he smiles warmly at them.

“Good morning Mycroft, Greg, ladies,” the older man greets them.

“Hello Uncle Edwin,” his love greets the older man, “This is Greg Lestrade, and his daughters Charlotte, Madeline, and Sofia.”

Nodding to each in turn, the older man smiles warmly at them, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“They brought cake and biscuits, apparently baked yesterday.”  The older woman announces as she closes the door behind herself.

~Hello,~ Madeline greets him, a shy smile curving her lips.

Edwin replies in kind, ~Good morning.~

Blinking, the older woman looks between them before asking, “Is she deaf?”

“No, Mrs. Holmes,  Madeline prefers sign language due to a bad stutter growing up and a lisp that she still has.” He replies gently, explaining, “I encourage her to speak in whatever method she is most comfortable with, that happens to be sign language.”

“Call my Mummy or Violet,” she informs him before nodding, ~My sign language is rusty, but I can still use it!~

Madeline’s smile warms up a little bit as she answers, ~That’s alright, it’s nice that you are willing to try.~

Finding a seat, his middle daughter sits down to watch and listen while Sofia engages Mrs. Holmes in a conversation, excitedly asking her about something math related. With that, the pair of them get to discussing whatever it is his youngest had inquired about, totally forgetting about everyone else in the room to his amusement.

“Tea and hot chocolate?” Edwin inquires, glancing between all of them.

“Yes please,” he replies.

“Would you like a hand?” Chare inquires hopefully.

Still smiling, the older man accepts, “That would be appreciated.”

The two of them head into the kitchen with his eldest stopping to pick up the biscuits and cake from his youngest as they go. Mycroft settles onto the sofa, lightly tapping the seat beside him once.

He smiles at his to-be-mate, settling down beside him before asking his middle daughter, ~Everything alright?~

It takes her a minute to respond, her eyes glancing about to make sure that they are not being paid attention to, ~I will be, her mind is,~ she pauses, searching for the right word, ~chaotic and loud.~

~Take a break any time you need to, my room is the second to the left upstairs,~ Mycroft comments, entering the conversation.

~Thank you,~ she replies with a grateful smile.

The three of them settle into a quiet companionship while they wait for Edwin and Chare to return with the drinks. Sofia and Violet are still talking about some math related situation, he doesn’t try bothering to understand since it seems to be something more than simple math and unlike his love or daughter, genius is not a word used to describe himself.

“Here you go, Charlotte kindly told me how you prefer your tea,” Edwin murmurs as he hands him a cup before passing one to Mycroft.

“Thank you,” he tells the older man.

Nodding, Edwin takes a seat in an armchair, before striking up a conversation about the weather and slowly moving it onward from their. The four of them chat about meaningless things, slowly getting a feel for each other.

Just before eleven there is a knock at the door before it opens to reveal Sherlock and John. There is hesitation in the boffins eyes as if he is not sure of his welcome, the rest of his stance screams of confidence and pride.

“Hello John, Sherlock,” he greets the pair as they stand near the door.

“Come in,” Edwin states before turning his attention to the consulting detective, “Sherlock, you know you are always welcome here.”

Violet chooses that moment to break off her conversation with Sofia to stand and rush over to hug her middle son. He can just barely make out her voice as it wobbles and she says something to him.

According to the expression in John’s eyes, whatever is being said is long over do. Once the mother and son have finished hugging, she tugs him over to sofa, shoving him down next to his brother before bustling away into the kitchen.

“She’s a different person than she was while you were growing up,” Edwin remarks with a glance after her, “She’s more like she was before Mycroft’s birth. It’s been an interesting year.”

Beside him, both brothers nod once.

“We are happy you are alive and have come home.” the older man continues quietly.

John moves over to the arm of the sofa, lightly resting against it while gently rubbing a circle on the consulting detective’s shoulder.

Silence falls over the room as if no one is sure what to say.

Sofia is the one to break it in her typical style by turning her attention to Edwin and inquiring, “So you are both uncle and second-parent?”

Blinking, their host stares at her in shock, before managing to answer, “I tried to be there, in whichever role they needed.”

Neither brother says anything, though Mycroft leans into him while Sherlock leans into John. From the conversations he has had with his love, he is aware of the myriad of problems and difficulties that the family had after Siger Holmes’ death.

“Hot drinks for everyone!” Violet announces as she comes in the room with a tray full of steaming mugs.

He smiles, ducking his head and trying not to chuckle since he has not finished the tea brought to him by Edwin. Quickly, he downs what is left of it so he can accept the new cup.

“Thank you,” he tells her, quickly echoed by his daughters and John.

Smiling, she nods before setting the tray aside and picking up her cup to take a sip.

Several more moments pass in silence as if everyone is trying to figure out what to say next.

This time it is Edwin who breaks the silence, “Are you looking forward to Christmas?”

“Oh yes!” Sofia exclaims happily, “Family time!”

“What about presents?” the older man inquires as he studies his youngest daughter.

She shrugs, glancing about and bouncing in her seat, “Those are good too, but I prefer family time, particularly peaceful family time.”

Edwin smiles at that, nodding in response.

A knock at the door prevents the conversation from lagging as the older man gets up to answering it, letting the youngest Holmes brother and his partner in.

He has not had too many chances to study the immortal or the younger brother, so he takes a moment to do so while everyone else greets them, murmuring greetings himself as he continues to observe. Shalen avoids touching anyone except Aragorn. Aragorn accepts the hugs from both elder Holmes’, however he seems more comfortable hugging Edwin. The greeting between the brothers is one of the warmest he has ever seen from them.

Perhaps that lunch the brothers had shortly after Sherlock’s return did some good and this Christmas will help to finish the healing between them.

“Sherlock, have you met Ari’s partner Shalen?” Violet inquires as she stands up and grabs the drink tray.

“Would you like some help, Mrs. Holmes?” his eldest daughter inquires with a smile.

The older woman blinks at her for a moment, surprised according to her expression before beaming at Chare and nodding. “That would be lovely, dear, but please call my Grandmum Holmes or Grandmum Violet.”

Standing, his daughter collects up the empty cups, nodding in response before taking the tray from the older woman, and carrying it into the kitchen.

He can hear them speaking as they go, discussing family and how important it is.

Smiling, he gives a small shake of his head, looking at Edwin and inquiring, “Are you having a good season so far?”

Glancing at the door to the kitchen, the older man answers, “I am, things are definitely better than they were last year,” his glance falls on the boffin, noticeably warming.

Silence falls once more though he gets the feeling his middle daughter is has a conversation with the ginger-haired man seated next to her even though they are not speaking aloud.

Focusing on his alpha, he inquires, _Do you know Shalen?_

 _He’s an immortal,_ the blonde replies, _beside’s Eric, probably one of the best types of person for her to learn from since most immortals are also heavily gifted._

 _Really? I’ve never met an immortal before, or I am unaware of it._ He remarks as he considers that.

 _There are not a lot of them floating about, most immortals live in the Divine Realms tied to their family line._ John tells him even as he speaks aloud, “You have a nice home.”

“Thank you,” the older man replies, “We prefer to stay here rather than our small country home since the boys grew up.”

A few moments later his eldest daughter and his love’s mum re-enter the room with the tray once more. Not only are they carrying the drinks but they also have a wide variety of treats and little plates to put them on. The eleven of them enjoy the snacks and visit with each other, having a peaceful if sometimes excitable conversation and just spending time together. At some point a small collection of gifts is passed out from Violet and Edwin, little things like journals and colorful pens for the girls, a book of German history in German for Mycroft, and a book of famous crimes of France for him.

Several hours pass like that until Sherlock announces that they have somewhere to be. Shock briefly flashes across the wolf’s face before he nods, agreeing and the two of them bid everyone merry Christmas before leaving.

Not long after that the youngest Holmes brother and his partner do something similar leaving as just their small portion of the family there.

Staring after them, Violet sadly murmurs, “I understand, just wish it wasn’t like that,” before getting into another conversation about math with Sofia.  

Chuckling, Edwin barely shakes his head for a few moments before asking after the girl’s plans after school.

Another few hours pass before Sofia reminds them that they are expected at his parent’s home. So they bid his love’s parents Merry Christmas and pile back into the car. The ride to his parents house goes quickly and mostly quietly. He is sure Mycroft is considering the change in dynamics within his family. Chare has that expression in her eyes every time she wants to be with Aidan. Perhaps he should see if the young cobra would like to join them? Madeline is quietly humming. Sofia is thumbing through Mycroft’s new book, eyes bright as she looks it over.

“When I get done learning French could I learn German?” his blonde daughter queries.

“Fayre is German, perhaps you can speak with her about it?” he suggests as he thinks about the pack and the people in it. He knows that his love can read, write, and speak in German too, however he is trying to think of a way for her to bond with people outside of their small family. She can always practice with Mycroft.

“Hmmmm,” she responds, still studying the book in her hands.

Quietly the politician inquires, “Is there a reason you suggested Fayre?”

He barely moves his head in a nod as he quietly explains, “Sofia doesn’t make friends the easiest because of her intelligence and the fact that she tends to forget people as her mind goes subject to subject. Perhaps learning a new language from someone will help.”

“Good idea,” his love replies.

The rest of the ride is quiet, and when they get there it is a bit difficult to find somewhere to park since the rest of the family seems to have already of gathered. Each of them collects something out of the boot of the car, that way they can hand out gifts, plus have room to put their gifts. Going off past years, there will probably be a lot of them.

Before they even reach the door, it flies open and Rolan runs up to hug him. “Uncle Greg!” the little boy exclaims, turning to his daughters, his great nephew continues, “Chare!” squeezes his eldest, “Madeline!” squeezes his middle daughter, “Sofia!” squeezes his youngest.

“Rolan, come back in the house, you’re not wearing shoes and it’s cold outside, Hello Greg, Mycroft, girls.” His eldest sister calls out from the door.

“Hullo Audrey,” he replies with a chuckle.

Glancing at the packages, she comments, “I see the girls went on a shopping or making fest again.”

He grins, “Yeah, they’re like that sometimes.”

She holds the door for them after his nephew runs back inside.

The five of them head in, with Sofia leading them to the living room and the massive tree set up their with presents under it. Since they worship the shifter gods rather than the human god, they use Christmas for its gift giving and family time purposes rather than celebrating a religion that is not theirs. His mum still worships the the human god, and he was given the choice, but went with the shifters gods. He gave the girls the same choice as well, all three had selected the shifter gods.

Madeline takes her time putting the gifts under the tree in an organized fashion, and he knows that part of it is not wanting to be near her cousins yet after what happened a few months before. She had forgiven them, but the she still hurts from it when she is around them.

Glancing towards the door, he hears, _Go let Aidan in, I sort of invited him since Chare was feeling pouty and I wanted at least one person here besides our part of the family I trust without worrying about they think of me._

He nods, keeping his mind clear of the sadness that he feels towards that statement. Heading to the door, he pulls it open just as he sees the younger man slipping out of his vehicle with a small box in his hands.

 _Good evening Greg,_ the cobra greets him with a slight tilt of his head, _I have brought a small gift for the mistress of the house._

“Hullo Aidan, come on in, Chare will be happy to see you.” he greets the black-haired man.

Smiling, the younger man steps inside, and he closes the door behind them. “Madeline is in the living room through there, and Chare is in the kitchen through that door over there.”

 _My thanks, where is,_ there is a pause, _your mother currently? It is polite to greet the mistress of the home first._

“Mum is in the kitchen,” he thinks about it a moment, “I don’t know if you have met her before. She’s the one human in the bunch.”

The younger man nods once, before heading through to the kitchen.

He returns to the living room where his lover and daughter are still at, they have not yet joined the others in the kitchen and dining room.

“Shall we?” he inquires once Madeline finishes.

 _Yes Daddy,_ she replies, having told him he previous night that she was sticking to telepathy and blocking her empathy as much as possible for the night.

“Indeed,” Mycroft answers, standing up from the sofa he had perched on.

The three of them leave the living room, heading into the kitchen and dining area where he discovers his Aunt Maria and sister Penny on their knees gasping for breath while the cobra just about glares at them. It’s a rather surprising expression on the younger man’s normally serene face.

“We have gathered for Christmas,” his mum quietly snarls to the room at large, “You will behave this moment or I will personally put the fear of God in you!”

 _Madeline, love, do you know what’s going on?_ he inquires of his middle daughter.

 _Aunt Penny and Aunt Marie made some really stupid comments to each other about Aidan, Mycroft, and me. Aidan sort of got pissed, and he retaliated by turning his cobra’s gaze on them. He said nothing to either of them, but i think he made his point._ She answers as she glances over the relatives in the room, her eyes lacking their normal warmth.

“Greg, love, it’s good to see you!” his mum greets him, moving through the kitchen to give him a hug, turning her attention to Mycroft, she smiles at him but doesn’t attempt to hug him the way his sisters have in the past. “Hello Mycroft, I’m happy you were able to make it!”

When one of his sisters goes to hug Mycroft who tenses up, the cobra steps between them, silver eyes serious.

 _Cat’s do not like to be touched without an invitation, you have not been invited to touch him, keep your canine paws to yourself._ The cobra answers the unspoken question, using broadcast telepathy so everyone can hear.

“He’s not a cat, he’s a human,” his aunt replies, her voice full of confusion.

 _And you’re barely a jackal,_ he retorts, the back of the younger man’s neck starting to change colors as his scales rise to the surface in stark contrast to his pale skin.

“Maria Lestrade! You will be polite, remember I am a human too,” his mum reprimands his aunt.

His dad stays out of it, it had long before been decided when it came to racial and family matters crossing, he avoided being the one discussing the topic, his blood pressure gets too high.

“We are going to have a peaceful and calm Christmas even if I have to hit each and every one of you with a frying pan upside the head, do I make myself clear? Now someone be a doll and start setting the table.” his mum states clearly as she looks at every member of the family.

Chare grins, hugging her mate, before tugging lightly on his hand and leading him over to the cupboard where the dishes are kept, “Can you grab the cups?” She queries as she pulls the tray out to set the dishes on in order to carry them to the table.

He doesn’t hear his answer, but he is sure that the cobra is speaking to her on their private link.

“It’s really hot in here,” Rolan complains in that high pitched voice only kids manage to pull off that is somewhere between a whine and a growl.

“Come here Rolan,” he calls the young boy over.

Curious, his nephew trots over and stares at him, waiting for what he wants.

“Madeline love, if you could?” He inquires politely of his middle daughter without saying exactly what.

Mischief curls her lips as she focuses, the air around their small part of the family suddenly getting a lot cooler while everyone else was let with the sweltering heat.

His mum notices the change in air difference and politely queries, “Are you lessening the heat?”

Shyly she nods, a slightly nervous look on her face, replacing the mischievous one.

“That’s wonderful! Please do so to the entire room, and if any even thinks something mean, tell me I’ll set them straight.” his mum requests with a gentle smile at his middle daughter.

 _Alright,_ she replies softly, a moment later he can feel the pressure change in the air as she changes her focus, emptying the heat out of the room. _It should last for an hour or so before it warms back up again._

“Amazing, simply amazing, thank you sweetheart,” his mum murmurs, hugging his middle daughter before heading over to the stove again. “Dinner is nearly done. Time to start putting things on the table.”

Just like when they were young, his mum doesn’t say who is to help, but he is aware that she expects everyone in the room to do something. Chare and Aidan are setting up the dishes, Madeline is keeping the heat down, Sofia quickly moves to grabbing silverware for everyone to use, he grins at Mycroft, heading over to the counter to pick up whatever he gets to first, and the politician stays close by, accepting the dish he passes him before they return to the table. One they have set the dishes down, he picks a seat and settles into it.

His love arches a questioning eyebrow at him, and he smiles, patting the spot next to him.

After the auburn-haired man sits down, he leans over and murmurs in his ear, “We each grab one, then find a spot to sit. Whoever mum is most annoyed with gets to grab whatever is left over.”

Mycroft makes understanding noises as he sits quietly.

Once the girls have completed their tasks, they each take seats, at the long table. Chare sits beside him, with Aidan on the other side of her. Madeline sits beside Mycroft, with Sofia on the other side of her. Slowly the rest fill in the various spots, moving chairs as needed and scooting as close together as possible in some spots. In the back of his head he cannot help thinking it’s a good thing none of them are really fat because otherwise there would be no way to fit them all at the table, as it is, they are pushing the limits of who can fit. Something tells him that next year there will be a slightly different seating arrangement made.

“Our thanks to the Old Gods, for the bounty we are about to eat, the ability to come together, and the forging of new bonds. May the upcoming year be as wonderful, amen,” his mum recites, combining the human prayers and praise to the shifter gods.

“Amen,” everyone repeats, some a little more willingly than others.

He can see the sardonic smile that quickly passes over the cobras features before smoothing out once more.

“Let’s eat!” she announces happily, starting to serve herself.

The next couple hours pass in a blur as they eat their Christmas dinner and visit with each other. Even though Madeline and Aidan are not seated together, he is moderately certain they are still talking since both seem to be not participating in the many conversations going on around them. He enjoys his talk with his sisters and parents, seeing some of the cousins he rarely gets a chance to see.

When they are done eating, his mum sets his Aunt Maria and Penny to cleaning up while the rest head into the living room to get ready for the gift exchange. Neither argue with her when she levels her glare on them, and she stops Penny’s mate and children from assisting. Once they join them in the living room, his dad starts to pass out the presents, his camera at the ready to take pictures as each person opens their gifts. Hot chocolate, biscuits, cakes, fairy cakes, and every other sugary treats in the kitchen are eaten while they do so, passed around and shared with lots of love, smiles, and laughter.

The youngest children have the most gifts, as is proper. While everyone else gets things to help with day to day life, their education or goals. Mycroft is surprised when he is given a box full of uncommon and obscure piano music, some of which he hasn’t previously had. The girls love their gifts, particularly Sofia with her collection of unusual cook books. All of the students in the family, including Aidan, have been given a box full of notebooks, pens, pencils, and binders.

By the time the gift giving was done, it was nearing eleven at night, and everyone bid each other goodnight. Chare leaves with Aidan, she’ll be home in the morning for the rest of their Christmas, and she’ll bring him with, or try anyways, he might prefer to go over to Eric’s home instead. Madeline and Sofia hug both of them good night before heading up to their rooms and going to bed.

Yawning, his love mutters, “That was more exhausting then dealing with a room full of minor officials.”

“Come on love, time for some sleep, I guarantee Sofia will be up way too early in the morning.” He tells the younger man, gently pushing him towards the stairs. “Up to bed.”

The two of them head upstairs, stripping down and curling up on the bed tiredly.

In the morning, he awakes to the sounds of Sofia using the bathroom before heading downstairs. He doesn’t bother getting up yet, waiting instead for his eldest daughter to get home before deciding to get up. Instead, he nuzzles Mycroft’s jaw, kissing it lightly before drifting back off to sleep, wrapping himself around the younger man.

The next time he awakes, it is to his love wiggling out of his grasp and getting out of bed. He smiles drowsily as he watches the taller man knock twice before entering the loo. They had not slipped into sleeping clothes the night before, so he is wearing nothing but his pants.

Groaning, he considers the fact the girls are up and about, which means they will be expected downstairs before ten am and he is not planning on having a quicky at his age on Christmas morning. Best get up and cleaned up since there is only twenty minutes or so until ten am.

Stretching, he gets out of bed and heads into the loo, “Morning love,” he greets the younger man, kissing the nape of his neck as he washes his hands, “Join me for a shower?”

Catching his eyes in the mirror, the politician nods once slowly, lightly running the tip of his tongue over his lip.

Groaning, he kisses the back of his love’s neck again, a little bit firmer this time, biting down just below his pack markings before lapping at it lightly.

“Greg,” his lover moans softly, “Yes.”

Stepping back, he turns the water on and waits for it to heat up. While he waits, he steps up in front of his love who had turned to face him, reaching out to run his hands down his lover’s body, hooking his fingers in the top of his pants and slowly dragging them down, carefully dropping to his knees to nose at him for the moment as he finishes taking his pants off.

Gripping the counter behind him, his love moans again, “Greg!”

“Shhhhh, don’t want to catch the girl’s attention,” he murmurs as he sniffs at his love pubic hair. His senses are not as sharp as a full shifters, but they are still sharper than a human’s and he loves the musky scent of Mycroft.

Another moan escapes his lover’s lips and his hips stutter towards him.

He grins, kissing and licking his way all around Mycroft’s thick member, nosing at it to enjoy the scent of him. Slowly he runs his tongue down the length of his lover before swallowing him down. Even though they are on a time constraint, he still takes his time, making sure to bring Mycroft to the edge before baking off a bit and doing it again. By the third time he brings his love to the edge, the younger man is trembling, his legs wobbly as he holds himself up by pressing against the sink. He gets Mycroft off, swallowing around him carefully.

Afterwards, he kisses his way up the younger man’s body, before kissing him gently. “Shower?” he suggests huskily, ignoring the heavy ache between his legs.

“I, yes, Greg,” his love replies a bit breathlessly.

Offering a hand, the two of them climb into the shower, and he closes the curtain to keep the water from bouncing off their bodies onto the floor. Grabbing the flannel, he soaps it up and slowly starts washing his lover’s body.

“What about you?” His lover inquires as he leans forward to lightly nibble at his shoulder.

Grinning, he shrugs, “After dinner, for now, let’s get cleaned up so we can go do Christmas with the girls.”

A shy smile curved the politician’s lips as he slowly nods.

Finishing getting cleaned up, the two of them head into the bedroom to get dressed before going downstairs. Today’s about family, and he has his here with him. Life couldn’t be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more chapter of this, then it is done. I plan to update Blessed, after that I have a poll going to see what my readers would like to see me focus on for a bit next, maybe not finish but add more. The stories to pick between are:  
> ~Seeking  
> ~Trial & Error (T&E)  
> ~Changes Continue (CC)  
> ~Unusual Relationship (UR)  
> ~Unexpected  
> ~Oral Fixation (OF)  
> ~Baker Street Polyamory (BSP)  
> ~Distraction  
> ~Clandestine
> 
> If you want to vote, leave it in the comments, feel free to select up to three


	28. Marriage, Bonding, and Honeymoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr about my stories: [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
> 
> Lots of thanks to NoOrdinarySouthernGirl for all of her help

_Greg’s POV_  
The wedding is scheduled for Thursday the twenty-fifth of April in the morning. It is a massive affair with way more people than he really appreciates being there. Not that it is surprising since they have their families and many of the people that Mycroft is expected to invite for political reasons. Eric takes over security, much to MI5 nervousness. Not that the cobra cares, he has far better security clearance than most of them anyways and knows exactly what he is doing. Two situations are resolved without hardly anyone noticing, the benefit of having the telepathic cobra in charge of it.

There is a reception after the wedding, where even more people show up for Mycroft, and a few of his coworkers show up for him. The biggest surprises is when the Councils of both Jackals and Wolves show up. It does not take him very long to understand why, after all, he has married the brother to the Watson Pack Alpha, alpha of the strongest wolf pack in the United Kingdoms, possibly the strongest in Eastern Europe considering some of the members within it. It is just surprising.

Thankfully everything goes smoothly, and the few short hours between the reception and the pack meeting are filled with them looking over all of the gifts given to them at the reception.

“Why is there so much?” his husband inquires, hand motioning to all of the gifts scattered around their kitchen. “This is far more than we could ever need, and I can purchase anything we actually do need with ease.”

Chuckling, he replies, “Gifts are always given at the recognizing of a bond or a marriage.” Motioning to the stuff, “We have children, and our eldest will end up with a pile like this in the not too distant future. On the plus side, at the official bonding tonight there will be lots of food instead of gifts.”

“Hmmmmm.” His love responds, eying the pile, before going still and glancing up at him, “The girls, I never did ask what my status with them is as far as the pack is concerned.”

“You’re their second parent, not step-parent, within the packs there is no such thing as step parent since relationships do not end normally and when one parent dies, it is rare for the remaining parent to marry someone new.” He explains, not sure that Mycroft fully understands. “As far as the clans, which is what all types of shifters or gifted together are called, care their birth mother was a carrier but is not their mother. She is no longer a member of any clan and never can be again.”

“Really?” his husband queries.

“Yes, really, you’re their second parent.” He answers, “You and the girls will develop your own relationship over time. Though I have to ask, did you think Sofia chosen to call you the French word for father for no reason?”

“Père,” his husband repeats, “That is a good point, I had not considered that.”

“Well silly, you’re a genius but there are some things you are just not used to, family life is one of them.” He tells his love, kissing him gently on the lips.

Mycroft smiles but doesn’t answer, instead he just kisses him back before going back to eying the pile.

“Eric didn’t give us anything,” his husband suddenly remarks.

Groaning, he rubs the back of his neck as he glances about, “Actually he did. Jackass.”

“Why is he a jackass?” his lover queries.

“Because he signed over the house and waived the contract between us,” he replies with another groan.

“Why?”

“Because he never actually wanted to accept money in the first place, he’s sworn to protect children, as far as he cares, giving me this house would have protected them. I wouldn’t have accepted it as a gift at that point, particularly not when I was so new to the pack. Now? No way not to accept it since a house is a traditional gift from the head of the line, and technically he counts as the head of our line as the eldest shifter in the family. So he is a jackass.” He grumbles as he explains.

His husband looks like he is thinking something through but does not actually say anything.

“Wow, that’s a lotta stuff,” his youngest declares as she comes prancing in, “By cobra traditions head of the family is Chare. He just did it because he’d rather not make money off of family while letting you not feel like a mooch.” She explains without taking a breath, before continuing on, “You’re right though, he would have given us the house when we first joined had you let him, wouldn’t have blinked. I think Aidan said he has four or five of them, inherited when his family was killed, neither of them use any for them. He has them cleaned by a human cleaning staff that he pays good money to take care of it, but doesn’t go near them as a rule.”

He flinches at that bald faced reminder of what had happened to the previous family. Even though he knows they weren’t here during it, he would have hated to be the one who had to clean out all of the family items. No his mind is not going to go to what he would do if that was his family.

 _You would do the same thing he did, hunt them down and execute them._ His middle daughter announces as she enters the room still dressed in her wedding finery. _That is if Mycroft has not beat you to the punch. But we are going to ignore that little detail. Your wedding was beautiful Daddy._

Walking over to his gifted daughter, he gently presses his lips to her forehead, “Thank you Madeline.”

She smiles at him, hugging him before turning to his love with a questioning look. There were some things she almost always asked permission from people before doing. Hugging is one of those things. Since she does not like random hugs, though she accepts them from her younger sister, she asks people before touching them.

Mycroft nods, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips.

Smiling back, his black haired daughter hugs his new husband. The expression that briefly crosses the politician’s face tells him that she has said something to him privately, but it is not something he plans to ask.

“You are being way to serious for your wedding day,” his eldest announces as she enters the room, despite her words she is beaming.

“He’s always serious, I don’t know if you noticed,” he replies with a straight face.

“Right, and you’re always a model of truthfulness.” She retorts with a chuckle. “Do we have any plans between now and when we go to the pack home? The two of you got everything ready for the honeymoon? Looking forward to an entire week of no kids, mind readers, or people who can smell what’s going on?” She fires off in rapid succession. “I’m happy for you, Daddy, you two work wonderfully together,” she whispers in his ear. Turning to his husband, she gives him a hug without actually waiting for him to say it’s alright.

“We packed last night,” he replies, “You sure that you will be alright for the week?”

“I’ll have the car.” his eldest answer before motioning to his middle daughter, “She’s a telepath who can reach any member of the pack needed to deal with any situation.” Then motioning to his youngest daughter, “She’s got the type of lungs that can bring the roof down if need be. We’ll be fine.”

He smiles at her, understanding that she is just trying to reassure him, but he is her dad first, and worrying is part of that.

“Shall we look through this mess during the time between now and when we are to head to the pack home?” he suggests with a chuckle.

His husband looks a bit overwhelmed at the pile of gifts.

“Don’t worry, Pѐre, we’ll help you with this pile. Shifters do not give presents and gifts with the same expectations as most humans,” his youngest remarks with a smile. “Presents from packmates are always great. Unlike humans, presents from packmates are just gifts. There is not the same type of expectations as with humans.” She continues, heading into the kitchen half of the room, “A human gives a gift and they expect you to thank them and like it even if you don’t, a shifter gives a gift, that’s that. They may like thanks, but only if it is something you truly like. Example: Uncle will not expect Daddy to thank him, particularly since he knows he annoyed Daddy with that action, but thanks are not why it was done.” She tilts her head, grabbing the kettle to fill with water. “That aspect of human gift giving has always confused me. Shifters are better they expect that any unwanted or unliked gifts are going to be given to someone else who would need them or want them.”

Chare nods in agreement, “She’s right, human gift giving can be very confusing. We’re used to pack gift giving because of our cousins, so it is confusing sometimes when we get gifts from humans and they expect a response different than a pack member would. She used to get mad at us about that,” his eldest mutters.

 _Enough of that,_ his middle daughter declares, _Daddy, Mycroft, it is your day, what would you like to do?_ Her hands flicker with sign language even as she speaks with her telepathy.

He smiles at his daughters and husband, shrugging slightly and answering, “Something with my family.”

His husband smiles at him, nodding and finding a spot to sit down at the table, “The girls have offered assistance sorting this pile, we could do so as a family while enjoying some of the girl’s tasty treats and tea.”

Grinning, Sofia goes to the side cupboard where she keeps the goodies, pulling several containers out while Madeline takes over the drink making, using two teapots, one which she makes hot chocolate in and the other which she makes tea. Chare collects up dishes, setting them out for them to use, while he pulls a chair up next to his husband.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, leaning close and kissing his cheek, “I know you’re uncomfortable with this part of pack life, it doesn’t follow political standards that you are used to.”

Mycroft nods slowly, eyeing the girls as they bring everything over, setting it out and pulling up seats next to them.

“How do we wanna do this?” his eldest queries as she accepts a mug of hot chocolate and snags a gingersnap.

“I’ll pass out presents. We put the wrapper in a trash bag. Once everything is opened, you figure out what you would like to keep, the rest we can store in the basement or take them to the pack home to be given to someone who might need them.” His blonde daughter suggests.

“That works,” he agrees, “This is good hot chocolate Madeline,” he compliments his quietest daughter.

 _Thank you,_ she replies smiling.

Standing, his blonde daughter starts grabbing random gifts, passing them out to each of them while his eldest daughter grabs a trash bag for the paper. The next few hours until it is time to head to the pack home is spent with the five of them going through the random gifts, drinking tea or hot chocolate, and eating way too many sugary treats. By the time they are ready to leave all of the gifts have been sorted, with Sofia claiming the large set of kitchen items when they are unwrapped with a mischievous grin, Mycroft deciding to keep a few of the old books they were given, Chare commandeering a colorful blanket, Madeline asking if she could keep the planter set, and him deciding to keep a camcorder. The rest of the gifts are put into some boxes and shoved in the corner to be dealt with later.

When they get to the pack home, he is mildly surprised to see it decorated, but only slightly. Aunt Sandra ushers them to the ring of trees where most ceremonies are held and he realizes that he has never asked exactly how this would work. Before he has a chance to, he is surprised to see that his jackal family is there, standing with Sherlock and Aragorn, and even more surprising Anthea. The girls are directed to stand with the family members, while they are brought to the center.

Over the next several minutes, he tries to focus on the ceremony, quite certain it is important but totally missing it, if you were to ask him later, he couldn’t tell you anything about it except at one point his wrist burned. Afterwards they ended up inside the pack home at a celebration of it being a successful bonding but he couldn’t tell you how they went from the circle of trees to the house. Most of the night passes in a blur for him and the next thing he notices is the fact they are on a plane on their way to their honeymoon.

“How much of tonight do you remember?” he asks his husband and mate.

The small spiral on their wrists would end up expanding into matching marks eventually, though the gray-silver color made it hard to tell which of the Old Gods blessed the union and bonded them.

“The vast majority of it, though I have discovered that your gods can be very, very loud.” His mate responds.

“Oh good, how did we end up on the plane?” he inquires.

“Eric and Anthea, they seemed very good at figuring things out.” Mycroft answers with a smile, “We are now halfway to our destination.”

“Awesome, wake me up when we get there.” He murmurs sleepily.

“Of course,” there is amusement in his love’s voice. Probably not the best way to spend the beginning of their honeymoon, hopefully his love will understand.

A little bit later, he wakes up as the plane sets down. Stretching, he grins at his mate before checking his wrist, studying the mark which has changed further during their flight. The spiral seems to have grown, it now taking up three times as much space.

“Did you get any rest, love?” he ask with a smile, waiting for the plane to land before unhooking his seatbelt and leaning over to kiss his mate.

“Some, I also finished a few documents that needed reviewed. Truthfully the amount of time I have had to catch up on paperwork in recent months is a concern.” His husband responds with a nod.

“Well, hopefully it is nothing major, and everything is just smoothing out because of your talents,” he remarks, both of them knowing that is probably not the case but hoping that it is nothing major.

A chuckle escapes his lover’s lips as he replies, “More likely they are just saving it up for even stupider action than normal.”

“Shall we head to our honeymoon?” he suggests when the door to the plane is opened.

“Excellent idea, I hope you enjoy our house here, I have owned it for several years. We could explore the area while we are here if you would like.” His husband suggests as he stands up.

“I’m sure I will, where are we exactly?” he queries as he glances about, noticing that there is a great deal of green everywhere, along with rocks and stone appearing buildings.

“We are in Pisa, it is an hour drive to our house in Tuscany,” his husband replies as they walk to a car.

“Nice,” he comments, glancing about and queries, “so I never asked, besides the home we all live in, exactly how many houses do you have?”

“Five,” Mycroft answers, “’Six if you count the fact our family country home is actually in my name.”

Slipping into the car, he asks, “Tuscany, and where else?”

“Manhattan, Tokyo, Oslo, Hong Kong, and São Paulo,” his love responds, “This is the only one used primarily for relaxing, the rest are used for work more than anything since I dislike staying in hotels when I can avoid it. I have considered getting one in France but have not found one I like enough to purchase at this point.”

The ride to Tuscany is smooth. The two of them discuss their home, the surroundings, and the idea of getting another house, this time together. When they get there, he looks over the house enjoying the way it looks before they head inside.

“Anthea had a team sweep the house prior to us arriving.” His husband announces as he turns on the light. “Along with having the house stocked up on food.”

“Foods good,” he replies, “this house is nice,” he steps close to his mate, “and I would like kiss you now.”

“That is an excellent idea,” his mate responds, closing the gap as he presses their lips together, long finger cupping his jaw.

The kiss starts off slowly and gentle, deepening into something far more needy and passionate. They spend what feels like hours but really are only minutes standing just within the closed door kissing. When they finally break apart both of them are breathless.

“Bedroom?” He asks and then suggests, “You can show me the rest of the house later.”

Taking his hand, his mate leads him through the house, upstairs to an airy bedroom with light colors. Turning to him, his love starts to unbutton his clothes, and he smiles, leaning in to lightly kiss Mycroft as he returns the favor. They take their time, hands lightly touching each other as they remove layer after layer, though his love has more layers, no surprise there. When they are finally bare, he lightly pushes his love back on the bed, following him down to kiss and touch every single inch of his body. He delights in the sounds that escape his love’s lips as he sighs in pleasure and need, moans wantonly, and groans huskily. They spend hours in their bedroom, touching and tasting, sharing their bodies with each other.

By the time the last gasp escapes his lips and completion has been reached several times and they collapse together into a sleepy heap on the bed, he briefly glances at his wrist, smiling widely at the design that has formed in smoky grays and shimmering silvers merged together.

“Tomorrow I will show you around,” his love murmurs sleepily, “Unless you have other plans?”

“Let’s play it by ear,” he suggests, “I love you Mycroft,” he tells him as he tugs him close and presses a light kiss to his forehead.

“I love you Greg,” his mate responds as he drifts off to sleep draped over him.

He smiles, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep with dreams of a mostly happy future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's that, it did not end exactly how I planned, but that is not surprising considering who this story was about. Thank you to all the lovely people who read this and double thanks to any of you who left me comments, reviews, and otherwise communicated with me. 
> 
> End results for the vote:  
> Seeking -10  
> Trial & Error -8  
> Baker Street Polyamory -4  
> Changes Continue -1  
> Clandestine -1
> 
> So those will be the stories I work on first in my line up (not counting prompt stories to get them in my the deadline!) Thank you to everyone who voted!


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